If you happened to read my last article, you’ve probably already pigeonholed me as a sci-fi geek. While that much is true, I’m also an art, music, and Photoshop geek, among other things. I use the term loosely because in my mind a "geek" is someone who obsesses on any given topic with unabashed over-interest to the point of social questionability. I personally find this endearing. At any rate, last weekend, my understanding of the word "geek" took on a whole new depth.
This recent foray into the realm of Science Fiction found me at the Bloomington Sheraton for the 2008 ConVergence Convention, an annual extravaganza that welcomes anything and everything sci-fi related. For anyone that’s been to a Minicon, Comicon, or any other "con," you probably know that these events can range from the nonsensical to the extremely nerdy, and yes, the outrageously debaucherous. And for those of you who are unfamiliar, let me break it down: Imagine a thousand social misfits being throw together into a no-holds-barred free for all for three days straight. During the day there are civilized interactions such as lectures, screenings, book signings, discussion groups, and swap meets, but once the sun goes down, room parties will rage into the wee hours, and rage they did.
I arrived around 8pm on the second day of the convention, armed with a notebook, a shameless photographer, a Serbian fashionista, a Japanese computer nerd – and two bottles of vodka. Walking up to the main entrance of the Sheraton, telltale signs began to appear: a trio of Ghostbusters in full regalia; a gang of pimply gothed-out teenagers sipping lemonade on an outdoor patio; and an old man in a black robe with a wooden staff striding purposefully through the parking lot. We had arrived. Upon going through a 20 minute ordeal to score our convention badges, we were eventually set loose to roam.
The first and second floors of the hotel were officially designated Party Floors. Each of maybe fifty rooms were rented out by convention-goers for the sole purpose of partying. Decked out in various themes, room topics ranged from Star Trek to Role Playing Games, to science fiction related TV shows and movies, to the totally undefined, but highly nerdy. The convention itself had also rented out certain sections of the hotel removed from the lecture and banquet rooms that housed the actually legitimate convention activities. Our first stop was the Space Lounge, an official attraction of ConVergence featuring a huge room lit only by blacklights – a neon mini-golf course; an entire wall devoted to glow-in-the-dark painting; a chill-out (or possibly make-out) dome festooned with beanbags, pillows, and rope lights; a stage where circuit bending art-noise performers buzzed and glitch-rocked for the crowd; plus a full-on fruit smoothie bar manned by some goth kids. We grabbed a few strawberry smoothies, which quickly turned into vodka smoothies and set off for the party rooms.
Overwhelmed by the endless array of possibilities, we decided to start on the first floor, work our way around, hit the second floor, then repeat as necessary. One of our first stops was the Xena Room. As a big fan (yes, I’ll admit it) of the show, I eagerly popped in, only to have an awkward conversation with another Xenaphile while watching a fuzzy VHS recording of the show on the television and pecking at the popcorn which was set out for guests. The cute lesbian (of course) couple who were in charge of the room didn’t hesitate to chatter about their love for the Warrior Princess and happily showed off their collection of Xena memorabilia which included weaponry and bobbleheads.
Other rooms included two interconnected Star Trek decks that were cleared of any hotel-esque trappings, and featured a floor to ceiling recreation of a star deck, complete with faux beaming platforms, a full crew of star fleet officers, and a bar that served either "green" or "red" alcoholic beverages, which we immediately took advantage of. A stop in the Willie Wonka room proved fruitful with sugary test-tube shots handed out by encouraging nerds, and enough candy to put even the healthiest of humans into a diabetic coma. Another highlight was the Toast Room, lined top to bottom with mylar and illuminated with red rope lights, where the hosts served up slice after slice of toast, topped with any number of delicious (and not so delicious) toppings such as corn, bamboo shoots, brushetta, fruit, and nearly twenty more options.
We kept trucking along, stopping briefly to watch a full-on light saber battle which had randomly taken over a cordoned-off patio near the pool. Darth Maul, in full costume, moved stealthily around his opponent while hordes of costumed spectators snapped pictures and cheered. We eventually made our way to floor two, which featured packed hallways with room-occupants hooting and hollering for people to enter their chambers. Cute girls in plaid skirts and low cut white blouses with head sets beckoned with promises of free cupcakes. A man wearing a sandwich board and ringing a bell advertised a party where free condoms and temporary tattoos were being dished out. Despite the general oddity of the whole situation, I found the most unusual experience to be the food served: ham sandwiches on wheat bread; tiered cakes that seemed to have a woodland fantasy theme; vodka soaked maraschino cherries that the server explained had been soaking since the previous year’s convention; and of course, the aforementioned at the Toast and Willy Wonka rooms.
The whole while, I continued to spike readily available non-alcoholic (and alcoholic) beverages with my handy bottle of Stoli tucked undisguised in my purse. The tipsier I got, the more entertaining the parties and the people became. I shucked off my typical awkward shyness to make eyes at guys in cloaks and to yell at Klingons. I repeatedly returned to the Egyptian Room, where the heat was cloying, but where keg cups full of merlot were readily available. I lost my friends, found them, and lost them again numerous times, all the while picking up strays and making new drunken pals along the way.
As the night wore on, the general party seemed to be moving towards a large performance hall on the second floor, which featured a DJ playing a danceworthy mix of 80s hits for a throng of some 200 weirdos. By this time I was severely hammered, my bottle of vodka not nearly as full as it had once been, and I was pretty much free of my normal inhibitions. My Japanese computer nerd friend (who is also a breakdancer, go figure) yanked me onto the dancefloor, and I let him. I should tell you now, that when (and if) I get drunk enough to dance, it’s usually an all-out spectacle, and this was no exception. After doing some comical dance routine-esque moves with my friend, I somehow morphed into the arms of gyrating alien with a paper-mache mask that had long stalks protruding from the head. At some point, I swapped him out for a Stormtrooper, who, in head to toe costume, still managed to bust a move – and feel me up. Eventually I stumbled outside, fell in a bush, and got carted home by my friends around 6am. All in all, a grand experience.
While I hate to write an article soley about the party aspect of the convention (which definitely has a reputation for being an amazing resource
for Science Fiction afficianados, and has a mile long list of highly respected artists and speakers attached to it), I can’t help but say that ConVergence was the best party I’ve been to all year. I’m counting the days until the next one, which I hopefully won’t be banned from for writing this article.
For more information on ConVergence Con, which already is updating it’s site in preparation for next year’s festivities, go to www.convergence-con.org
To see tons more photos from the Convention by Stephen Stephens of Digital Crush Photography, click HERE
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