I occasionally work at conventions for a local gaming store when they need a few extra hands. It’s been a long day and the dealer’s room has just closed, but the convention itself is still going strong. All of my coworkers have gone off to meet other friends, and I’m feeling a little lonely since I’m spending the weekend away from my fiancée. I decide to walk around the convention a little anyway and then sit down on a bench to play with my 3DS.

Since this is an anime and gaming convention, there are tons of cosplayers everywhere. The convention centre is in the downtown, and sometimes you’ll see ‘convention tourists,’ or people who obviously know nothing about the convention but are gawking at all the strange costumes. I’m dressed all in black and red, with a long black hooded cloak, heavy combat boots, devil’s horns and black lipstick, and I probably look pretty intimidating.

Suddenly there’s a tug on my cloak, and I look up from my game to see a little boy about four years old beaming at me. He says something in French I don’t understand just as his father catches up, smiling sheepishly. His father says the boy wants his picture taken with me. Of course I say yes, and the boy crawls right into my lap, still beaming, so his dad can take a picture. Then he thanks me, and off they go.

I was dressed as an obscure character from a popular web-comic. There’s no way either father or son actually knew who I was dressed as. I have no idea why the little boy decided the girl in the dark cloak and demon horns was the one he wanted a photo with, but it was the highlight of my weekend!

It’s been a brutal winter, and we feel the pain of it late one night when I wake up to find a burst water pipe in one of the bedrooms. My mother and I spend the rest of that night and most of the next two days emptying the bedroom out and drying things out… and sadly, almost all the things in said bedroom are mine, as I was in the process of changing bedrooms when this happened. Among the items that suffered water damage are several art prints and sketches done by favorite artists, many irreplaceable.

Amid all the headaches dealing with uncooperative insurance and restoration companies, I end up contacting the artists in question to get quotes on what the damaged sketches were worth and if there’s any hope of purchasing replacements of the damaged prints. One artist replies very quickly with the following:

“Sorry to hear about the water damage. I hope things get sorted out fast for you and everything… As for the two prints just send me your address and I’ll get new ones in the mail to you as soon as I can. They’re on me.”

It was a small gesture, but I still teared up. This entire situation has been a headache for my mom and me, but one person’s act of kindness made a difficult situation more bearable.

(Years ago my parents signed me up for a oil painting class at a religious college. When I got there I was the youngest one by at least 20 years besides one other guy who looked about my age.)

Teacher: “Okay, we are just going to start with basic sketching.”

(The guy then proceeds to get naked and stands on a small platform.)

Me: *very quietly to the woman next to me* “Do we all have to do that?”

(Apparently my parents didn’t understand what figure drawing meant. They still love to tell that story.)

This story is part of our “Not Getting Art” Roundup!

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(I’m a graphic designer but I take on some freelance jobs outside of my regular job. A client contacts me, looking for a brochure design for his upcoming art show at a small gallery. His work is very cool and I decide to take on the job. After receiving multiple e-mails from him freaking out about how “It just doesn’t FEEL like my art. It needs to FEEL better!” I decide to meet with him to go over it in person.)

Me: “So, what aren’t you liking about the current design? We’ve discussed all the changes and up until this point you seemed ok with it.”

Client: *touching the print out* “The FEEL is all wrong! Wrong, wrong, wrong!”

Me: “Okay, can you explain a bit more? What about the feel isn’t right?”

Client: “You know! The FEEL!” *start rubbing the piece of paper on his face and flinging it all around in the air*

Me: “Do you mean the paper? This isn’t the final paper stock we’re printing on, just regular printer paper.”

Client: “Oh, okay. Good because this s*** is NASTY!” *throws all the papers on the ground and points at my computer screen* “But also, this colour here is just so WRONG!”

Me: *collecting papers* “All right, we can change that. What colour were you thinking?”

Client: “A bright blue! Oh, wait… maybe a dark and moody blue.”

Me: *makes changes on screen* “Do you like either of these?”

Client: “Are you an idiot!? Neither of those are blue! How can you call yourself a designer if you think THAT’S blue!”

(The client is now kneeling on his chair and flailing his arms in the air while screeching at me.)

Me: “Okay! Why don’t you go through the colours here and see if there’s something you like better!”

(The client calms down and scrolls for a solid 15 minutes through the colours while practically lying across the table.)

Client: “This one! It’s PERFECT!”

Me: “Umm… all right, then.”

(We settled on a lovely Forest “Blue” and concluded the project after printing. The kicker? I went to his show the next week and found that he didn’t use my design but decided to make all new brochures by finger painting them and handing out still wet pieces of paper at the show.)

This story is part of the Artists-Versus-Clients roundup!

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(In this story, I am the customer. My boyfriend and I are walking out of the store when a song comes on. The song seemed to be repeating the same word over and over, so I thought I’d say something.)

Me: “Excuse me, ma’am? I think the music glitched out.”

Employee: “Um… what?”

Me: “The music, I think it’s glitching out.”

Employee: “Oh, no, it’s just a remix of the song!”

Me: “…”

Boyfriend: *facepalms* “I can’t believe you.”

Me: “I am so sorry. This is so embarrassing.”

Employee: “It’s okay. Have a nice day!”