The last time I attended a science fiction con was in 2016. Cons are already centers for cringe anyway, and I only went to them because a friend of mine, now deceased, bought, sold, and traded assorted skiffy memorabilia in the “Hucksters’ Rooms” at various local cons, and I’d help him pack and unpack, and watch the booth while he stepped away to do con stuff.
Now you have some context. The incident that stands out to me of that last con is being set up across an aisle from a woman who was selling books on how to write erotica. Some morbidly obese fellow–if he weighed less than six hundred pounds it was not by much–wearing a fedora and an MLP t-shirt was waving his cane around from his electric mobility scooter. Really. And he was bellowing at her in his outside voice, so that everyone in the room heard every word he said, that he had a medical marijuana card, isn’t that GREAT? and his wife was bi, isn’t that GREAT? and did the lady in the booth want to get high and fool around with him and his wife? I will always be haunted by the “help me” look in her eyes.
That was the last con I attended, in part because of that incident, in part because my friend’s health declined seriously after that and he died about a year and a half later, and that was the last con he was ever able to attend.
Possibly I am judging harshly based on a single incident, a single experience. I know that if you gather people in one place in sufficient numbers, the Law of Large Numbers says you’re going to see strange things. I know that cons for stamp collectors or fantasy baseball fans always have That Guy. I know. It makes me angry that memories of time spent with a good friend are marred with that individual’s public behavior, though. And I know I shouldn’t take it personally. I know I was just a spectator. But it still enrages me. And four years later I’m still angry enough about it that I think I will never attend a con again, because I think I just might drop dead of a heart attack if I ever cringe that hard again.
Maybe I have anger issues. Maybe the problem is me. I don’t know. I know that all the cute cosplayers and all the nerdcore rappers and all the gaming workshops and all the Star Trek merch on Earth could not tempt me to go back.