When I met Elizabeth, she had just gotten out of a serious, long-term relationship. Her boyfriend was a good guy, but he always said he wasn’t sure if he would ever want to get married. E finally decided, I can’t wait for you to decide what you want or don’t want, and she broke up. She decided from now on, any relationship she was in, she would give the guy two years to decide if she was the one he wanted to marry. She decided, a person should know within two years if they want to spend their lives together or not. That’s enough time to get to know who a person is. So when we began dating, the clock began ticking.
While we were down in San Diego, the two-year alarm clock would go off. As the trip approached, I was getting really excited and feeling really close to her, because I had picked out a ring and knew I would be proposing down there. It was kind of dirty, but I chose to wait until the last minute, because I thought that would make it a little more special, to be away on a trip for the proposal.
But she was getting irritable and upset. She knew I knew the ultimatum was coming, and she was convincing herself to break up with me. She thought, “I hope this guy doesn’t think I’ll break my own rules. I gave him two years, and I love him, but I can’t wait for someone again.”
We headed out to the airport to begin our trip. I had my little portfolio with the first forty-eight pages of “The Lump.” I’d shown the first twenty-four pages to editors at APE, so I knew how the portfolio review worked. I knew what to expect. And I knew that this was the biggest convention in America, and that there’d be plenty of publishers to show my work. I planned to approach DC and Darkhorse for sure, and then maybe just see who else was there. I thought I’d also approach Oni, maybe Fantagraphics and Top Shelf, and look for Caliber, who I wouldn’t learn until later had gone out of business.
On the drive out to the airport, Elizabeth looked over our flight schedule and realized she’d misread it, and that we’d already missed our flight. Great start for putting her in a bad mood, for a vacation she was already gearing up not to enjoy, since she was going to have to break up with me. I, on the other hand, am thinking, ah, who cares? So we missed a flight? I’m in love, and I’m going to ask this girl to marry me.
After checking in, we caught the next flight, which actually wasn’t much of a wait. We got to San Diego, took a bus to our hotel, and realized our hotel reservation had been for a month earlier. Somehow the wrong day had been reserved. They scolded us for requesting the state worker rate (Elizabeth works for the state, but the woman at the desk demanded she know if E was doing business this weekend.) We were finally given a very small smokers room (we don’t smoke, and Elizabeth is allergic) that reeked of cigarette smell. To allay the reek, they gave us an anti-smell spray in a janitor-style spray bottle. We would spray it in the air, and on our bed covers and pillows, and then our bed covers and pillows would be soaking wet with the smell of fake-flower not quite overpowering cigarette smoke.
We walked through town toward the convention. It was a cute town, and we found a restaurant for lunch. Elizabeth wasn’t particularly excited to be down at the convention. She thought maybe she’d go to the con for a day, and then maybe go to a movie or go shopping or get her nails done, or try and find something to pass the time for the rest of the weekend. Originally she envisioned reading or watching tv at the hotel, but now she knew the less time she could spend there, the better.
We got to the con, and E took my picture arriving at my first “big” con. At least, my first big con with her. My first big con, understanding the industry now, and legitimately making a pitch as a comics artist.
I’d been told about this convention. I’d been told there was nothing like it, and it was just the biggest thing you’d ever see, and you could find any old comics you were looking for. And before this year, that was pretty much the only reason I would go to cons; to find and buy old comics. And so the appeal of San Diego wasn’t so big for me, because I was able to find plenty of the comics I was looking for at my local conventions. And furthermore, all the local conventions tended to have great deals, where people were always dumping comics for 50% off, or for a dollar an issue, or fifty cents each, or a quarter. And it sounded to me like even though you could find anything at San Diego, you wouldn’t find it for the great deals I’d been finding them. So it just sounded to me like an expensive trip, buying an expensive airline ticket and really expensive hotel, and then maybe you’d find some books you couldn’t find at home and they would cost more than if you ever did find them at home.
But this year, I wasn’t really looking for comics. I was looking for work. So that made it worth it to give the convention a try.
It felt just like the Wondercons I’d been to before, except that it was ENORMOUS. It would take ten or twenty minutes to hustle from one end of the hall to the other. People were in mobs, everywhere. Everyone was dressed as Superheroes or manga or Alien or Terminator, or weird make-up, or just costumes you don’t even recognize. But all the costumes were REALLY GOOD. And really crazy. It was just SO HUGE.
There weren’t just a bunch of comics bins, like the conventions I was used to. There was every kind of toy you could imagine, and all kinds of videos, and t-shirts, and people selling posters and mugs and bobble-heads and models and original artwork. There were video games lying out everywhere for everyone to play. Everyone had enormous displays. There were huge Superman displays and Batman displays and realistic life-size models actors for their latest movies. EVERYTHING was SO HUGE. It was like the ultimate fantasy of a ten-year-old boy, selling everything he could imagine he really needs in his wildest dreams.
As we’re spending time in the hall, Elizabeth is enjoying herself more and more. The whole atmosphere is so stimulating and exhausting and bizarre. There is such an odd and huge mass of people. Elizabeth joked that it made her realize, whatever kind of person you are, there is a place for you somewhere. There is an ass for every saddle.
So by the end of the first day, Elizabeth had such a great time, she can’t wait to go back. She isn’t interested in getting her hair done or going shopping any more. She wants to hang out in the convention, and people watch. And observe the sheer insanity of it all.
That night we went to a nice Thai Restaurant, and having been on our feet all day, trudging for miles, we’re both exhausted and ready for bed. We had a nice dinner, and afterwards I told her, Hey, why don’t we take a walk down by the water.
So now she thinks something fishy is going on. Could it be…? Why would he want to go down to the pier if we’re both so tired? So we walked down, and I’ve got a ring in my pocket that I’ve had for a couple weeks, and I’m trying to look for a nice place I can propose since I’ve never been down here before, and it’s dark, and there are kids everywhere, down for the convention.
Finally we find a nice place over by a pier that seems quiet enough, but it’s kind of in the dark. I pull out the ring, and right then a mass of maybe a dozen kids comes walking up. I quickly and embarrassedly propose without even getting on my knees because I’m so embarrassed, and Elizabeth says yes and we hurry off away from the kids. She puts the ring on her finger, and it’s huge, it’s way too big. She could probably fit two fingers in it. And she keeps trying to get a look at it, but she can’t see it because it’s so dark. The only lights or lamps are in the ground by stairs and along walkways, so people know where to walk. Elizabeth is holding her hand down against the ground by these lights to try and see what her ring looks like.
And we get back to our smelly hotel and go to bed, and right outside our window for some reason there just happens to be a block party going on, with rap music blasting on enormous speakers, and a DJ having people participate by clapping and yelling. And we go to bed, engaged. Having gotten engaged at San Diego Comic-Con International, of all places. What fucking nerds. How embarrassing. To this day, I’m ashamed when people ask how we got engaged, especially if they’re comics nerds like we are.