Arisia Tales, Vol. III: The New Economy
Jan. 20th, 2009 12:13 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
slipjig3Arisia is our one annual splurge, bankrolled every year through Christmas and birthday money from my parents which they've specifically sent for the purpose of applying to the hotel. That said, money was still unsurprisingly tight this year, so we ended up doing things on the cheap, i.e. staying the hell away from Dealer's Row. Amazingly, we actually succeeded on that count, aside from the small bagful of buttons from Nancy's that we'd budgeted for ourselves. We were so successful, in fact, that we were able to throw a twenty back into our Bucket o' Fun, the pail we throw loose change and the occasional buck into, reserved for Cons, nights out and other recreational purposes.
Hindsight is always 20/20, to be sure, but I do wish I'd known certain things which might have been helpful in the finances department.![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
felisdemens had arrived at Arisia under the influence of antibiotics, and within a day or two the Cipro had begun pimp-slapping her in the form of a case of the Creeping Blurghh, which sadly sent her to bed early one night. She was still not-too-successfully convalescing the next morning, and I was keeping her company in the lobby Niche, a spot which would become much more important as the Con wore on. < /foreshadowing > Overcome by inertia and abject misery, she made a comment that maybe, instead of engaging in Con Activities, she should just hold up a sign letting people poke her with a stick for a dollar and let the world come to her.
It just so happened that I had a Sharpie and scrap paper on hand:
The sign had to be changed because we lacked a stick. We did not, however, lack a squid. The adorable li'l cephalopod pictured above was a gift tofelisdemens from a friend—one, it turned out, that had been used by other friends for flagellation purposes earlier that weekend (Reason #1407 Why I Love My Friends). She promptly named him Mr. Grabby, and he just as promptly became a prime conversation starter. (Random Guy in Stairwell: "Are you transporting a cephalopod?" Felis: "No, I'm just happy to see you.")
What did we learn from this? Dang bupkis, frankly, except for the probably guessable fact that offering Con strangers the opportunity to poke you with a squid will indeed get you attention.
Oh, and she made five bucks.
Hindsight is always 20/20, to be sure, but I do wish I'd known certain things which might have been helpful in the finances department.
felisdemens had arrived at Arisia under the influence of antibiotics, and within a day or two the Cipro had begun pimp-slapping her in the form of a case of the Creeping Blurghh, which sadly sent her to bed early one night. She was still not-too-successfully convalescing the next morning, and I was keeping her company in the lobby Niche, a spot which would become much more important as the Con wore on. < /foreshadowing > Overcome by inertia and abject misery, she made a comment that maybe, instead of engaging in Con Activities, she should just hold up a sign letting people poke her with a stick for a dollar and let the world come to her.It just so happened that I had a Sharpie and scrap paper on hand:
The sign had to be changed because we lacked a stick. We did not, however, lack a squid. The adorable li'l cephalopod pictured above was a gift to
felisdemens from a friend—one, it turned out, that had been used by other friends for flagellation purposes earlier that weekend (Reason #1407 Why I Love My Friends). She promptly named him Mr. Grabby, and he just as promptly became a prime conversation starter. (Random Guy in Stairwell: "Are you transporting a cephalopod?" Felis: "No, I'm just happy to see you.")What did we learn from this? Dang bupkis, frankly, except for the probably guessable fact that offering Con strangers the opportunity to poke you with a squid will indeed get you attention.
Oh, and she made five bucks.
