Op Drop at Fan Expo: Dia 1

Holy Cosplaying Cuties, Batm--er, Alizée!

Friday, as indicated by the post I made that day, was kind of a mad panic as I rushed to get the last of that day’s disques burned and labeled before heading out to Fan Expo—40 disques altogether. The stressful state of mind wasn’t at all helped by the fact that I’d decided to change gears at absolutely the last minute, and make half of them the new Mark III ‘music only’ CDs, which necessitated a slight redesign of the labels.

Mark III Back

Mark III Front

As you can see, proofreading was not my strong suit that morning. Nor was it for the rest of the weekend…I only noticed the rather glaring typo in the track listing as I pulled up the image just now. Argh.

I was also feeling surprisingly nervous as I made my way down to the convention, much as I had the night I made my first few drops. Though I’d since gotten pretty good at dropping them inconspicuously, without feeling like I stuck out like a sore thumb, it had always been in relatively small quantities, spread out over large areas. And at that point, my career total of drops had been in the high teens. Dropping a hundred disques over the course of three days in a relatively confined and crowded space was daunting to say the least. Surely, sooner or later, somebody was bound to catch me in the act and start asking questions…and I really, really didn’t want to have to explain to anybody—particularly security—why I wasn’t a terrorist, or something.

Fortunately, I needn’t have worried. Despite all the years I’d been coming to Fan Expo, there were two things I’d overlooked about it: first, that it’s almost impossible to look conspicuous in a roomful of cosplaying teenagers in full Stormtrooper armor or barely-there anime outfits as they strike poses, stage mock-lightsaber battles and play spin-the-Pocky with each other. Second, that if there’s one thing these people understand more than anything, it’s what being a rabid fan of a semi-obscure foreign celebrity is all about! Though I failed my stealth check more than once over the course of the weekend, almost without exception, my stammered and embarrassed explanation invited polite—and in at least a few cases, genuine—interest.

Though Friday was the shortest of the three days, running from 4pm to 9pm in the evening, it was also by far my best day in terms of drops and pickups. After casing out favorable drop points on the show’s three floors—pay phones, food court tables, unmanned booth tables and unguarded displays, and what few precious empty seats were scattered around the hall—I settled on a route that would let me drop disques as efficiently and inconspicuously as possible, while still letting me see everything I wanted to see.

The first circuit, which must have taken me the better part of three hours—mainly because I kept getting distracted by one thing or another—saw me drop about half of the 40 disques I’d brought with me. And as I began my next lap, I was excited to see that virtually every single disque I’d dropped had disappeared, and the few that hadn’t at least looked like they’d been picked up and given a look-over. Encouraged—and foolishly believing this meant the rest of the weekend was going to be a snap—I decided to pace myself and take it easy, breaking off from my mission for long stretches to shop, look around, and attend a few panels.

I’d be kicking myself to that come Sunday. I’m almost certain that if I’d really pushed it, I could have exhausted the supply of disques I’d brought with me, and then some. If I had to do it over again—and who knows, in a year’s time, I just might be—I think I’d aim to drop at least half, if not two-thirds of the weekend’s total payload on that first night, while everybody’s still excited to be there, and before they’re sick to death of having a flier, a promo comic or some other piece of marketing thrust into their hands every thirty seconds. (Lord knows I certainly wasn’t interested in picking up anything else come Sunday afternoon…but we’ll get there.)

I wound up dropping just over thirty disques that first night, right on target to reach 100 drops by Sunday evening, and more than doubling my career total. And it had been so easy, too—I hadn’t been spotted once, and as far as I could tell, every disque I’d dropped had been picked up. I was practically giddy with excitement over how well it was working. As I called it a night and headed for the subway home, I briefly considered dropping my few remaining disques along the way, as had been my standard M.O. up until that point.

“Nah,” I said to myself. “Why waste them? You’ve got the whole weekend ahead of you, and tomorrow’s going to be even easier than tonight was!”

Uh huh. Little did I know what the rest of the weekend had in store…