Blizzcon From The BackYard Series: A Tale of Two Metzens

OMGOMGOMG
OMGOMGOMG

I turned to my brother-in-law as we were going up the escalator to see the new movie theatre on the 3rd floor of the Anaheim Convention Center; he promising ear-melting speakers and huge visual effects, and I say: “Gee, it sure would be cool to get Chris Metzen’s autograph.” (I am pretty sure I didn’t say “gee.” I am not sure why in my typing personae I dig out 1930s interjections like “gee” and “gosh.”) Now the subtext to this is we had just laid out hundreds of dollars for tickets, and waited in the Blizzard store line for hours and bought the cubs some souvenirs. Of course Chris Robinson, the Art Director in charge of the horror that is human females, was no where to be found, that coward.

We turn the corner to the third floor, and lo and behold, CHRIS! My brother-in-law said his name, and he, Chris, graciously gave me his autograph on my badge! (Luckily I had a pen handy.) Oh coolness! I feel like I met a rockstar! The line was too long for the movie theatre, so we never got to experience it, but hey, I got my autograph!

 

I turned to my brother-in-law as we were going up the escalator to see the new movie theatre on the 3rd floor of the Anaheim Convention Center; he promising ear-melting speakers and huge visual effects, and I say: “Gee, it sure would be cool to get Chris Metzen’s autograph.” (I am pretty sure I didn’t say “gee.” I am not sure why in my typing personae I dig out 1930s interjections like “gee” and “gosh.”) Now the subtext to this is we had just laid out hundreds of dollars for tickets, and waited in the Blizzard store line for hours and bought the cubs some souvenirs. Of course Chris Robinson, the Art Director in charge of the horror that is human females, was no where to be found, that coward.

We turn the corner to the third floor, and lo and behold, CHRIS! My brother-in-law said his name, and one of Chris’s handlers, turned to us and gesticulated a “no paparazzi” hand, while Chris put up a hand to shield himself from the glare of my timid smile. The handler explained, “Not now, Chris is with his family.” and off they went. Pen nested in purse. Badge unmarred. And the line was too long for the movie theatre, so that didn’t happen, either.

 

In any case, this is the only signature I really care about:

OLD LADIES RAIDING GUILD: ROCKSTARS!
OLD LADIES RAIDING GUILD: ROCKSTARS!