Yesterday was National Tequila Day. There’s no Wikipedia page for it, so I assume it’s basically a made up holiday from people who felt like it was important enough to make a Facebook Page for. Unlike some legitimate holiday or past time, like Hot Dog Day.
I hate tequila. In fact, I’m convinced that no one actually likes the taste of tequila. In my book, there is bad tequila…and worse tequila. Moving on.
Last weekend, I was lucky enough to be one of the 166,000 people down in San Diego attending Comic-Con (that number isn’t technically confirmed. I just got that from a cab driver and his source was unknown because I didn’t ask). It was dramatically different from my experience two weekends ago in Las Vegas, where some whiskey-breathed, drunk guy in a tank top is violently intruding my personal space, celebrating his winning Black Jack hand by trying to bring back “Wasssup.” No one thinks you’re funny, you asshole…And why the shit did you hit a 13 when the dealer is showing 6? I don’t care if we’re Downtown playing $5 hands; there are rules, damnit.
The only thing that connected the two experiences is the sheer amount of ridiculousness. I thought Vegas was crowded. You haven’t experienced crowded until you’ve spent 2 hours in a building constantly rubbing against groups of smelly, sweaty people.
Ok, actually that sounds like a club in Vegas. The difference between a convention like that and a Vegas club is that there are people buying 11-sided die for board games, who are saying things like “need not” and “what kind of powers does it have?”
Like Vegas, it’s sensory overload. There’s so much happening and so much to take in. The one thing that I find extremely admirable about the attendees is the sheer amount of passion they have. For as much as 360 days out of the year (it’s a 5-day event), they could be waiting for this day to travel countless miles in order to join a bunch of strangers who share a strong, common bond. I liken it to going to a sporting event where you’re supporting your country, hugging random people because you share the same passion.
There is so much excitement for fictional worlds. Introverts become extroverts in their comfort zones. Suddenly, a person that could have been picked on for their interests are part of a majority. In that instance, people might look at me and think it’s strange not to be as passionate about something, regardless if it’s real or not. To them, it’s extremely real, and that’s what their life revolves around. A large part of their life may be dedicated to things that keep them glued to a computer screen, a tv monitor, or a piece of literature. Who am I to judge someone’s passion?
Another lesson I learned was not just the passion to desire, but to be desired. Everyone wants to feel what it’s like to have the person/people they are with to feel that they are incredibly lucky to have you in their life. Not to have someone justify what you are with negative statements. No one ever wants to be the recipient of “I was so lucky I didn’t end up with someone else.” They want to be the recipient of “I was so lucky that I found you.” I’d like to think that I have and am the latter. And it’s a great feeling to know you can say that and have that be said about you.
That’s enough for now. Happy Tequila Day.
Thanks for reading.
– The Most Loved Hot Dog
