The event in question was Worldcon, more specifically Torcon 3, taking place at the Metro Toronto Convention Centre (and Royal York Hotel). Much like the olympics this event changes every year, though for some reason I picture the bidding process for worldcon involving two city representaives circling each other in the desert while the star trek fight music plays...

So I was there, but not attending. Why was that? Well, it would have costed me somewhere in the neighbourhood of 300 bucks to get in, and that represents a significant percentage of my annual income (namely between 2 and 3 percent) and that buys a lot of shiny things. I guess print sci-fi fans have more money not having to shell out $40 for a DVD and having access to magical things called libraries if they so wish. That, and the crowd is generally older and makes this part of some annual pilgramage that they buy into nice and early...

So then, what was I doing there? Well, two reasons: one, I was going to be a ninja for the masquerade. The other was a much more sacred duty...

...namely, I was going to attend the room parties. On the first ponderance of this concept, I had to note that generally speaking the average person doesn't generally associate legendary party legacies to sci-fi conventions, but I was willing to give them the benefit of the doubt; after all, conventions have this tendancy to evoke such parties in general, and us geeks need to unwind once in a while.

Enough of the random theatrics, on with the show. My first problemwas that I didn't actually know many people that were going to be here. Sure, there were vague threats from Xiola and Kisa to be around, and Chanilye was supposed to be there, but otherwise I was mostly planning my standard "wing it and pretend I recognize people" routine. Lucky for me, I was able to drop the act quickly as I came across Sid and Gord, both familiar faces in the crowd. Sid was going off for food and Gord was busy puttting the moves on all the ladies, so I didn't exactly want to intrude much.

Soon, though, Chanilye arrived hanging out with David (aka TheGrandePoobah) and I quickly latched on like a neurotic four-year-old desperate in search of finding someone to talk to. The photos started being taken, but ultimately it was just your standard crowded room; in this case the Ad-Astra room (shameless plug for them, shameless hope for search engine gratification for me). Their theme was the great doughnut taste test: Tim Hortons versus Krispy Kreme, Canadian mainstay versus American juggernaut; there were doughnuts and ballots.

So there was food, and that was good, but a more important tradition lay ahead; the floor crawl, where we could get even more food. And stuff; see, all these rooms are trying to impress people for some reason, often because they're campaigning for a future Worldcon, and therefore in traditional city bid fashion they're not above bribes. And really, when you get down to it, food is the bribe of choice for sci-fi people...

*Insert image of red line moving through the halls of the Royal York hotel from room to room*

Okay, I'm short on effects budget, so that'll do for now. I can bet most of you are hearing the music anyway, no? Damn, I want that boxed set...

*ahem* The rooms were a mixed bag; a couple unnamed rooms had all of three people in them. Maybe that was because we just barged into someone's guest room (the screaming tipped us off those times) but othertimes the snacks laid out untouched signalled us to another problem; unsuitable food. Yes, fans are fickle, but lack of good food, or more importantly good drink, is a fate punishable by solitude...

...unless you've got stuff, in which case you're back in our good books. Yes, we're such whores...

The progression started. Stickers were given out, munchies were sampled, and random stuff was given out. We were given con ribbons from the San Jose Worldcon where they hadn't been printed in time, so they made a nice keepsake.

After finding the shiny, we came across a room festooned with various colourful cartoon-type characters. Mostly aliens, but the occasional bunny and a large Winnie-the-Pooh were there too. They were all inflatable figures and relatively posable. Maybe it was the pixie sticks talking but this gave us bad ideas. First we started posing with the characters, and then we started posing the characters with the characters. Yes, we're all really immature. No, we don't really care. Eventually the characters started posing with the people, mostly due to the goading of the photographer who wanted some photos to offend people.

It turns out that they were in fact part of the kids area at the con. Oops. Anyway, the photos exist as beautiful testimony to the strange things that go on in hotel rooms; the sad part is this is one of the more tamer things I've seen, and further elaboration might would present more questions than it could possibly answer. And yes, if you've stayed at the Royal York, this could have all happened in your room... sleep well next time you crash at a hotel.

Upon scanning this report, I realize how many disturbing keywords exist for the search engines to seize upon. By now items such as "inflatible Paris Hilton" and "Winnie the Pooh porn" will make this site turn up somewhere in the final analysis... Wait, I never said porn. Ah well, I have now, so might as well ride with it. Back to the show...

So after leaving the room with said figures still in compromising positions, the hobnob continued, but I'm going to pick it up in the next part, since frankly, I've had all the above written for six months and have been unable to finish it. This seems smarter to just call a halt right now, carrying on in...