We’re Not Cos-Playing Anymore

I work for a prominent hotel chain as a security guard and bouncer. This hotel hosts a very large annual science-fiction convention. I’m a fan, and I get to meet a lot of authors and artists — including Phil and Kaja Foglio! — and I buy some neat stuff. The con staff do a fairly decent job of keeping things organized.

The biggest problem is some of the fans.

One morning, I get a sort of panicky call from the hotel café about a guest creating a disturbance. I bob and weave my way through the tide of early-rising Klingons, Imperial Storm Troopers, Daleks, Vulcans, and hordes of other creatures and characters. When I get to the café, I immediately discover the problem.

There is a woman there; she is hard to miss. She is wearing an apparently homemade “costume” which resembles mosquito netting… and nothing else. Everything is clearly visible.

She is drunk and/or stoned, combative, and as reasonable as a rabid wolverine with a toothache. And she stinks. She refuses any suggestion to change her attire. It’s only after I have called the police for assistance that she makes an attempt to cover herself. She grabs three cocktail napkins and stuffs them under her mosquito netting until they cover her nipples and genital area.

This is still not acceptable attire for anywhere, least of all a dining facility. She expresses her displeasure at great length and with many profanities, not stopping even after the police repeat the instructions to cover up or leave.

She makes several pointed references to “pigs,” which she thinks is amusing. The police are less than amused and escort the woman out of the hotel in handcuffs. She is issued a summons for public indecency and released to her vehicle after being told not to return to the hotel. Ever.

Not an auspicious start to the day for anyone involved.