#nikaharper

nikaharper has an important PSA!

TAKE NOTES, game designers!

The day had come.  Not in my wildest years had I thought of being able to accomplish such a seemingly easy task, but self doubt and anxiety only magnified the experience.  I followed the Twitter feed, kept my eyes glued to social media updates and photos.  Today was the day I finally got to meet someone I looked up to in person.  Granted she isn't the biggest internet celebrity or a mainstream noticeable face, but in my mind she was a godsend.  

It was the 24th of July, as well as one of the opening days of Comic-con.  Sometimes there are perks to living close to San Diego; beaches, sun, non-seasonal weather, and of course the Con.  I've gone a few times in my life, marveled at all the attractions and sightings.  But now that I've reached a certain age, those wonders just don't hold my appeal anymore like they use to.  This Con peaked my interest because "she" was going to be there.  

Granted if she was going to be within the convention center, my chances of meeting her would have been null and impossible.  The Con attracts all sorts of people, local and tourist alike.  So to combat the droves of con goers would be futile.  However, luck happened to be that "she" wasn't going to be in the convention center, but at the jolt n joes for a Geek & Sundry lounge meet and greet.  Huzzah! At last I can finally confirm firsthand what I had only perceived through a screen.  

The anticipation made my world seem trite and everlasting.  My work shift seemed like an eternity of trivial tasks just piling on one after another.  Even getting off work seem to take too long.  Falling asleep was more difficult than ever.  How can one sleep when you're planning out the entire day and ideal circumstances to meet this amazing person.  

As my mind funneled around the numerous scenarios, equal amount of enamor and doubt seeped into my head.  The most perfect of instances would be undermined by an even more practical and perfect countermeasure.  "What if I could buy her a drink and make small talk?  What if she doesn't like you?"  All these pros and cons meant nothing if I couldn't even take the first step in going to meet her.  

So I went.  The drive down was like it always was; long, boring, and full of horrible drivers.  An hour later there I was, in downtown San Diego and only a few blocks away from my destined meeting with "her".  Knowing it being the Con, parking is beyond scarce.  However, I planned for that and wore my running/walking shoes.  The only problem was that my outfit was entirely black and the outside temperature was in the high 90's.  It was muggy and hot.  Being a person of a bigger body type, I tried to refrain from overexerting myself.  But it's kinda hard to not sweat when you make the poor choice of not doing laundry and leaving only dark colors left in your closet.  Score one for you karma, but this game is far from over.

I walk what seem to be vision quest from the parking garage on the edge of 6th to the jolt n joes by the convention center.  The walk seemed like a tremendous build up for something, failure or success could pop up at any point.  I try to not let my mind over think the situation.  "You're going to jolt and joes, 'she's' gonna be there.  Play it cool, grab a drink and some food to calm down, shit maybe she could be around and you can buy her a drink".  (My hopeless romantic fantasies always manage a way to warp any thought regardless of context).  

I finally arrive and its packed, which is to be expected.  Anything within sweating distance of the convention center would be swarmed with costumed patrons and Con affiliates to escape the heat.  I didn't care, I was here and I was going to meet "her".  I meandered my way to the bar, nothing helps meeting a celebrity quite like that liquid courage.  A double Jack & coke in and the nerves are settling.  

I see the entrance to the lounge upstairs, but still hesitate.  "I have all day to meet 'her', no need to rush things".  It was easy to think that, but even I couldn't calm the nerves and quell the rising anxiety, but the alcohol was helping if only slightly.  I order some food to settle my stomach and ensure I don't make a drunken ass out of myself in "her" presence.  I enjoy my drink and food, make chit chat with other bar patrons.

But now is the time.  I gather myself and go up stairs.  The air conditioning upstairs has been broken all week, as I've been told by another bar fly.  So the mugginess and heat intensifies as I ascend the stairs.  I can feel my body react and my clothes starting to feel damp.  

As I look around on the top floor, I scan for anything related to "her".  A booth, a sign, a chair with a name placard, anything to point me into the right direction.  However there's nothing of the sort.  I recall back to the program for the meet and greets here in the lounge at the base of the stairs.  "Meet the Vloggers" was at 5 and it was barely 3:23.  SHIT!  

I'm too early.  Could I have missed my chance?  Could she not be here?  Is my princess in another castle? (yes the mario pun in necessary, its Comic-Con dammit).  I walk around both areas of the upstairs lounge scanning for anything to signal me to a proper conclusion.  As I make my way back towards the stairs, I do one last scan.  This last stitch effort to make my journey not a failure.  Doubt and anxiety at all cylinders in my head.  

Every negative thing imaginable comes to mind.  But something catches my eye.  The noise in the room makes trying to single out a particular voice almost impossible.  But thank god "she" has a particular look to her.  Naturally dark haired, but the red/orange highlights are a dead giveaway.  My heart lightens up.  Besides the natural heat in the room, I stop sweating as much.  I fearfully make my way over there.  

It couldn't have been more than 20 feet, but it seem to take 10 minutes to get there.  I carefully observe "her" and her surroundings.  She's with what I can only assume to be her friends and/or group of colleagues.  They're playing some card game I've never seen before.  But I can't get side tracked now.  I'm almost there.  I approach from the left and swing to her right.  I hear her voice and my predispositions about her came rushing at full force.  She was everything I imagined and more.  

She was on her bar stool, arranging her cards for her next play.  She was wearing a bright fluorescent orange dress.  It complimented her dark hair and highlights.  But she was more than just a visual appeal.  He voice was playful and squeaky.  Like the one you use when playing with a new puppy or children.  I looked at her and my eyes were caught on her signature tattoo.  It was glorious.  I just remember listening to her "Bloom" video on youtube and gazing at her piece for awhile.  

My voice finally mustered the words to catch her attention.  "Excuse me, I'd hate to bother you but can I have an autograph?"  It was done.  The mission was a success regardless of this outcome.  I had come to San Diego, check.  I had made it to jolt n joes, check.  I had gotten a drink, double check.  Finally I met her, check and check.  Mission Complete.  

I handed her the mini composition notebook I found at Staples that morning prior to heading out.  I wanted to grab a sharpie for her to sign and make the autograph all the more special.  On her patreon page, she said she would send us postcards written in a "pretty-colored sharpie".  My eyes gazed for a sharpen that would be perfect for "her".  My eyes lock on to a purple mini sharpie, but doubt and anxiety force me to grab blue and black as ample substitutes.

Huzzah!  As the mini composition book appears the selection of mini sharpies follows.  And low and behold her eyes gleam wide and a smile radiates as she selects the purple sharpie.  It was destined, it was fate, or it was a very good guess on my behalf and I'm over-romanticizing this again.  Whatever it was she smiled and began doing what she does best, writes.  She begins signing and spazzes out saying "I can't write".  I could only attribute this to the miniature writing implement and medium for which she could not have been expecting.  She complimented me on the composition book as well as my tank top as she signed away.  Black tank with an orange outline of Charmander, because when I want to impress the ladies...I go with the pokemon route (wink wink).  

Our meeting was brief, but would be sufficient enough for a lifetime, or until our next fortuitous meeting.  She signed my book and I left her as I found her.  I expressed my gratitude and continued on our separate ways.  Looking back at it, she was smaller than I imagined.  Granted she didn't stand during out encounter, but I assessed her size accordingly.  She was petite, voluptuous, and every bit charismatic as you would think.  I loved her for it.  

The stroll down the stairs was a blur.  Joy, glee, and all those other feel good emotion had wafted over me.  That or the alcohol had finally kicked in.  But I returned to the bar, finished my second double Jack & coke, paid my tab, and left for home.  As I trekked back to my car in the parking garage in what seemed to be butt fuck Africa from where I was currently, I pulled out my coveted treasure.  My precious, my reward for my efforts.  Though small and brief, the experience is what made it all the more special.  Of course I wished more would have happened, but greed of that nature would only sullen my victory of today.  

The autograph read,

"Happy Comic Con!  

(stay sweaty out there)  

xo