Similar to having my dad write a blog last week, I had been imploring Alex to share some of his stories from the road. Again, I am not sure how often or how many of these we can publish, but I wanted you all to get a taste of some of the wild things that go on behind the scenes of being in this business. I hope you enjoy reading them as much as we have telling them.
I first started helping my dad set up at shows part time, one of which included Wizard World Philadelphia. When I first started helping him with the show way back in 2009, Dad made a deal with me that if we had a really good show, we could go to the Capital Grille for steaks on Saturday night, the last night of the show. We hit our goal and a new tradition was born. We went to that restaurant many times over the years while attending the Philly show. Flash forward a few years, and we are invited out to that same Capital Grille by a well- known dealer who had a business proposition. Let’s call him Victor. Little did I know what was in store.
We sat down at the table and the unsuspecting waiter asked for our drink order, only to have Victor completely ignore him while espousing the virtues of his venture. If you have ever dined in a large group and are an even halfway considerate human, you know the distinct awkwardness of a busy waiter that can’t seem to corral a table’s attention. While we finally slowed him down enough to get our drinks in, he immediately launched back into his diatribe when the waiter left. The volume of his speech was increasing with the passion of his plan, so much so that from my vantage point I could see the next table over was getting visibly annoyed and other tables began craning their necks to see the source of the commotion. In what can only be described as a Seinfeld moment, our table neighbor began yelling to his dining companion. Trying to compete with Victor, he yells, “I’m trying to have a nice dinner, and this man is YELLING. HE IS YELLING AND I CAN’T ENJOY MY STEAK,” which, rather predictably, Victor doesn’t even notice, unless you count him raising his volume level to account for the unexpected rise in the decibel level of the table next to us. Victor’s handler finally got his attention and alerted him that he was disrupting other guests, but the damage was done. I could tell the unhappy diner wanted to spring for the molten lava cake, but the ringing in his ears must have forced an early retreat. He signaled quickly for the check, and when he walked past our table, I swear I heard him mutter,” The man is still yelling.”
This was right around the time I decided I really liked working in comics.