If you’ve been to ComicCon enough, you’ve likely made some Con Buddies. Con Buddies are like the friends you make at summer camp as a kid: You see each other once per year, freak out together for a week, and make vows to remain in touch (that you never keep).
Mitch (not his real name) is one of my Con Buddies. We met through a mutual friend about 4 years ago and hang out every time we’re down in San Diego. We’re Facebook friends, but besides the occasional random email exchange, we don’t really chat outside of the Convention Center.
I couldn’t make it to ComicCon this year - first time in 8 years - and I was pretty grumpy about it all week. So maybe that’s why, when Mitch first texted me late Thursday afternoon, I decided to mess with him.
A dick move, I know, but these kind of missed connections happen all the time at ComicCon. There’s so many people and so much going on that sometimes it’s really hard to link up with your Con Buddies.
I posted our exchange on Facebook (hiding it from him, of course) and Twitter (which he’s not on).
And thus #CluelessAtComicCon was born.
Mitch didn’t seem upset that we never met up that night. But more importantly, it seemed like he actually thought I was there.
Late Friday morning, I got an actual phone call from Mitch. We chatted about all the cool stuff we had seen the previous day. His account was a mix of first-hand observation and childlike enthusiasm. Mine was an artful melánge of #ComicCon Twitter posts and total bullshit.
He was waiting in line for Hall H. I was at my job in Culver City. But I convinced him I was already inside the hall.
Once he got in, we tried to meet up.
This led to a phone call afterwards in which I apologized for ducking out early, and made vague promises to meet up later.
That night, Mitch was on his way to Playboy’s KickAss 2 party while I was watching Kramer vs. Kramer on my couch. As you do.
I decided to press my luck and go on the offensive. This time I’d come to him.
Thank God he didn’t check his phone right away.
By Saturday morning, my conscious was starting to gnaw at me.
I thought I had gone too far. But then I remembered what Ferris taught me.
Time to up the ante. I figured I couldn’t play the Missed Connection Game much longer. So on Saturday afternoon, I grabbed a ComicCon photo of Walking Dead actor Norman Reedus with Breaking Bad’s Aaron Paul from Instagram earlier that day -
- shot a matching pic in the alley behind my apartment -
- ‘shopped the two together -
- and sent it to Mitch -
After that, the weight of my conscience and desire not to get caught got the best of me. So later that night, I took an opportunity to get out clean.
And that’s how I tricked my Con Buddy into believing I was at ComicCon for three days when I really wasn’t.
Far as I know, Mitch never figured it out. Or maybe he did and was just humoring me. Either way, I think he’ll find it hilarious when I send this to him. At least I hope he does. Stay tuned…
* * * *
UPDATE: He never figured it out.
Bring it on.