Six Months To Four Days

I don’t know about the rest of you, but I have three least favorite days of the year. One is the day after Gen Con. The second is the first snowfall of the year. The third is the day Gen Con registration opens. Obviously, I hate the first because I am not at Gen Con anymore, having very recently been in a state of at Gen Con. I hate the second because I used to love snow. I would make snow angels and hope four feet of snow fell. Then I grew up, and then snow became a frosty bastard who mocks me and my puny lumbar region for three months out of the year. The third is simply a reminder that four months have passed, I am still not at Gen Con and eight more shall pass before I am once again at Gen Con.

Seasoned con-veterans will tell you, planning during this time of year is crucial if you want to have a good convention experience. If you wanted to get into one of the nice hotels attached to the convention center, you’re almost certainly too late. That happened in January, around the opening of registration. However, if you would like to get a hotel within walking distance, you may still be able to. Just be prepared for what walking a mile to get back to your hotel room when you’re completely exhausted means. Also, there is a phenomenon I am going to call “Random Gen Con Shenanigans” that may befall you during this time. The premise is simple. It is late, you have been walking around all day and having a wonderful time, but you are tired and everything hurts. Then, somebody suggests you all go to a game in somebody’s room. The next thing you know, Shenanigans.

1. You find yourself in a strange hotel room, but mysteriously all your friends have vanished. The people there are using gaming accessories you are not familiar with. Some of them make it hard to breathe. The best thing to do in this case is to escape at the first opportunity, then make up a story about how you went to a strip club with John De Lancie. Convince everyone it is the truth. Even yourself.
2. You find yourself in a strange hotel room, and a French-Canadian man is feeding you candy while everyone gets drunk. At the end of the night, you’re relatively sure you’ve played D&D. This is actually one of the better outcomes.
3. You go into the underground tunnels beneath Indianapolis, searching for treasure. This leads to your arrest. However, the following year you star in a TV movie about your adventures, which leads to superstardom. Eventually, you fall in love with a volleyball.
4. You get talked into carrying a case of root beer a mile across town. It is really damn good root beer. It had better be.
5. A random stranger pulls you into a dark alley and makes you play a short game Axis and Allies. During the convention six years later, you emerge victorious. You have amassed epic parking fines.

Registering for events is also crucial if you intend to do anything but meet up with friends to play. If you intend to register for True Dungeon, you have from exactly the time registration opens until three seconds later to get tickets. They should base all web server load testing practices on what happens in the first minute of Gen Con registration, because basically what happens is every nerd in the Northern Hemisphere all sends a request to a website simultaneously. I am somewhat worried this is the Internet equivalent of the Large Hadron Collider, and this is going to cause some sort of quantum singularity. We may already be dead, but not know it yet. Depending on what kind of quantum singularity it is, we may also be oranges, but not know it yet. Truth be told, this might be a good thing. A little citrus scent might help counter the hideous Nerd Whiff scent emanating from those big sweaty guys that walk around the convention floor with towels around their necks.

My personal plan this year is to play an unholy amount of the World of Warcraft TCG (assuming it still exists), as much D&D as possible with as many friends as possible, and to stay the hell away from that strip club with John De Lancie this year. I didn’t like that place one bit.