Waiting for Comic Con

I spun around. The gang of would-be asskickers were gone.

“But…there was a whole bunch of them. They were trying to beat me up.”

Officer Anderson was unconvinced. “Let’s see some identification.”

Uh oh. I’d left it in the car. All I had in my pocket was a Comic Con pass and my three-day itinerary. I tried my best Jedi mind trick. “You don’t need to see my identification.”

“Don’t pull that Obi-Wan Kenobi bullshit on me. You’re going to find yourself in the hoosegow.”

“You’re going to arrest me?” I was outraged. “For what?”

“How about disturbing the peace? How about running through a hotel lobby dressed like…some sort of fairy.” He looked at my sword. “With a concealed weapon.”

“I’m a Nordic Warrior King,” I said. “Here for Comic Con.”

“Comic Con’s not ‘til next week. Get in the back of the car.”

Officer Anderson was nice enough to drive me to the parking garage to get my car. While I sat in the back seat, I looked again at my Comic Con registration. Damnit. In my excitement, I’d misread the date. I wouldn’t even be in San Diego on those dates!

As he pulled away, the policeman rolled down his window. “Take this, Mr. Hanson,” he said, handing me a piece of paper.

It was a photo of Officer Anderson, resplendent in Viking garb, a smiling Chris Hemsworth next to him. Behind him was a sign that read “Comic Con, 2012.”

“Have a nice day, Mr. Hanson. We’ll miss you next week.”

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