No room at the inn
I just spent another frustrating 30 minutes trying to find a room for this year’s Comic-Con. Yes, it’s four-and-a-half months away, and there’s nothing available. The only — only — hotel I can find with any available room for four nights is seven miles from the convention and not on the shuttle route. What this would mean: a minimum 30-minute drive each way, crawling through blocked streets, to get to the Con. I may have to take it. The catch: They also want it paid in advance.
After attending this convention for 26 years, I was feeling pretty crummy about this situation. For years and years, my friends and I were able to book a suite with no problem — and we were being extra-considerate of the needs of others by stuffing seven guys into that one room. I have to admit to thinking that we deserved some sort of special consideration after the, well, billions of dollars we’ve dropped in San Diego over the years. The sequester is nothing compared to the impact of pulling us out of the San Diego economy. But then I found out that Len Wein couldn’t get a room. If the co-creator of Wolverine, Swamp Thing, the Human Target, Nightcrawler and Storm can’t get a room, who am I to complain?
What did I do in similar situations when I was a teenager? Just sleep on the floor through the all-night movie screenings. But now they come and roust you. At this point, I’d settle for a stable.