I'm opening the portal early in the day, as I have no idea where I'll be later this evening when I need to be Blogging all about it.
Today kicked off the actual Texas Frightmare Weekend
in its normal form, without all the VIP whatnot we passed on that happened last night. I sent the wife and Morris
on their way so they could get a jump on shopping, and then met Skincarver
in his room, making plans for Corinthian
to meet us downstairs. We headed down, only to be met with a lobby filled with people in line for something
, which we kinda figured was the ticket booth where we needed to pick up our will-call tickets.
I held a place in line as Skinny
decided to look around and see what the actual deal was, in case we'd ended up in the wrong line. This was of course
the case, and we headed deeper into the hotel ballroom area to the will-call area, getting our bracelets that pass for tickets to the event. In the process we ran across Corinthian
, who had just so happened to make his way in through the side door that this was located by.
We made a circuit of the room, just kinda checking things out, amused by all the Goth
girls in their scrawny fishnetted glory. It was interesting to also puzzle over the presence of the Suicide Girls
, and what they exactly have to do with horror.
In our initial pass of the main vendor room, Corinthian
noticed Cerina Vincent
's table as we turned a corner, and asked if she'd mind signing his copy of the Cabin Fever DVD
, and she said no problem. As he was fishing it out of his bag she mentioned that it would be $15, and he replied "Oh...well then nevermind." and zipped the bag back up and moved on, surprised that he'd be paying people to sign merchandise of theirs that he'd already paid for. I kinda kidded him about his naivete, but knew that I'd be paying through the nose soon enough.
It was actually Skinny
who jumped into the swing of things first though, he bought a signed photo from Clint Howard
, and then had me snap a photo of the two of them together.
We drifted into the next room, where Skinny
also got a signed photo from Tom Savini
as well as a shot of he and Tom
We ran through the line to meet Doug Bradley
, who looked quite dapper in a sport jacket and a "WWPinheadDO?" t-shirt. Skinny
had him personalize a copy of his biography, and when he asked what he owed him, Bradley replied $50. I myself was putting the book back down at this point, as that was a little too rich for my blood. Skinny
didn't even blink, and started throwing out a couple of twenties, fishing for a ten in his wallet. Bradley
looked confused and asked what he was doing, because the book was only $15. They joked back and forth about the misunderstanding and Bradley
almost ended up giving him too much change back after it was all said and done. It's weird to inadvertantly run a change scam on one of the icons of horror but makes for a great anecdote. I snapped a picture of Skinny
, and then picked up my own copy of the book and a pic as well.Corinthian
's Jeffrey Combs
personalize their copy of the DVD to his wife Ellen Aim
, and got a picture taken with him.
A bit more wandering led us to the line for the Devil's Rejects
cast, and both Skinny
and myself bought signed stuff and had a picture snapped with Sid Haig
, who was super cool. I picked up a little Japanese
mini-poster from him that he personalized, which was cool because I've almost bought the same poster on eBay several times. We made our way down and I picked up a copy of a Cornbugs
CD and a signed still from Werewolf Women Of The SS
from Bill Moseley
, waited for Skinny
to make a similar purchase and then Corinthian
snapped a photo of the three of us together.
We hit the Halloween
panel, if only to cool off, as the vendor rooms were a steamy jungle by this point. The hotel went on to prove that they have no idea how to deal with any situation, as they were still realizing at this point that they needed to bring in chairs
for a seated Q & A style panel. This meant that hotel flunkies were dragging in chairs from the back to seat the audience members even as the guests were being announced and seated onstage. Danielle Harris
is tiny and super cute, and everyone spoke highly of the new re-imagining of the film, but then I've never really seen an actor who bags on their current project before it hits theaters.
We decided to grab some food in the hotel restaurant, and after waiting behind a guy talking to the hostess who we thought was a patron and turned out to be a friend of hers or something, we were finally told that we could seat ourselves, as one half of the restaurant was closed. We sat at the far end of the bar where we were able to find an empty table, scoping out the situation, which was about 12 customers sitting around the bar with the 2 bartenders, and one single waiter wandering intermittently around the four tables or so at the other end of the bar.
We proceed to sit there for over 20 minutes until I'm pissed off enought to go and tell the waiter that we'd like to see a menu, gesturing in the direction of our table. I'm not sure if all white people look alike to him in some strange sort of reverse racism, but he comes back, bringing a menu to the couple sitting at the end of the bar closest to us, confers with them, and then they leave before he ever brings them anything else. This leads me to believe that he didn't even fucking know where we were, but who knows what's really happening at this point?
A bartender acknowledges us, but never comes back.
Steadily drifting from annoyed to completely angry, I grab the other bartender's attention and tell him we'd like to place drink and food orders, bring us menus. He heads to the other end of the bar and is waylaid by other patrons. A few other server-types have now trickled in, and one of them asks if we've been helped, we assure her that NO ONE is helping us, and she asks what we'd like, we ask for menus, she says something about her manager and walks away. We're theorizing at this point about possibly having seated ourselves in an area not designated for food service, but there's empty plates on the next table, so I'm at this point debating throwing the television in the room down the hallway or any kind of petty wanton destruction I can muster in childish retaliation, because their service is in their ass at this hotel.
What we assume is a manager based on the sport coat finally approaches, takes our food and drink order, and leaves. He returns with beers, and small ice-water or juice glasses for us to drink them from, which has me wondering why the hell I'm drinking what should be a pint of Guinness
from a water glass, but we're trying to make the best of this. The food is served by the lousy waiter I spoke to earlier, who goes on to bring another round of drinks and the check. I simply look at him and go back to eating, and mills around, insisting that we settle up, because he's been working since 5:30 that morning and is trying to end his shift.
I'm thinking fuck him, let him wait, but Skinny
pulls out his wallet and settles up out of pity.Corinthian
observes that if he'd waited on us when we first sat down we'd already be fucking gone, though he unfortunately doesn't say this to the waiter himself.
We're met by Ellen Aim
as she was able to sneak out of work early and she wanders the rooms with us, scoping things out until she gets antsy because she's not wearing the little bracelet thingy, the absence of which will most likely get her booted, so she retires to the bar to have a drink and wait on us to finish up. My afternoon agenda is to get an autograph from Ashley Laurence
, as well as Tom Atkins
from Night Of The Creeps
and Halloween III
, the unfairly maligned stand-alone film that doesn't feature Michael Myers
I get a mini-poster from Halloween III
signed and personalized to me, as well as a picture with Atkins
. As we walk away from the table I notice that the poster is also signed by Nancy Loomis
, one of the stars of the first Halloween
film, who actually
turns up as the ex-wife of Atkins
character, so that's a nice little bonus, though I'm unsure how the signature got there without someone paying money for it.Skinny
and I both purchase stuff and get it personalized by Ashley Laurence
buys a print of one of her oil-paintings
, a gruesome image of an autopsied female, and I pick up one of the original Hellraiser
mini-posters, but without the photo art, rather the old school drawing of a demon that looks nothing like the Cenobites
of the film peering around a doorway. Laurence
poses for a picture with Skinny
and then myself, she was gorgeous and doesn't look a day older than when she made the films, it's kinda freaky, as I'm sure she's got to be at least
in the neighborhood of 40 or so; she's definitely doing something right.Skinny
suggests a possible pact with the Devil
, which seems to be working out for her.
We call it a day around this point, drop the stuff off in the rooms and go downstairs to meet Ellen
in the bar for drinks. Thus begins round two of us versus the bartenders, who apparently tell Skinny
that they're out of Guinness
, then one of them says that he'll go find some in another area of the hotel and disappears. Skinny
returns with everyone else's booze, relates this story to me and says that he wanted to tell the guy that they could fuck up anyone's order except mine, as edgey as I'm feeling about the service in the hotel so far.
They drink and we talk and Skinny
eventually offers to try and get a substitute drink, only to finally return with a Guinness
and yet another improper glass to drink it from; I'm quite puzzled with this bar, because what kind of full service bar doesn't offer beer in pub glasses? We chill, and when the next round is ordered Skinny
told that they don't have any Guinness
, only to have the other bartender who borderline gives a fuck
tell his fellow employee that yes, they do
indeed have Guinness
, and thankfully serves him one.
We adjourn from the bar to head into Dallas
to meet people for the True Colors
concert that Morris
have been so excited to go to. Skinny
takes a pass on this one in favor of catching a free screening of a local horror flick at the hotel.
We meet at Morris
' apartment and drink for awhile, which turns out to be a mistake, as the opening act and Debbie Harry
are completely done by the time we wander our way to the venue, and take our place on the upper lawn amidst all the other queens in town. Ellen
apparently annoyed a lesbian couple by sharing a passionate kiss during the Erasure
set, and once it became apparent that Cyndi Lauper
wasn't going to be performing any of the 80's material that Morris
was interested in hearing fast enough, we split a bit early and beat traffic.Erasure
was cool though.
And it was amusing to watch some lesbian woman in a wife-beater that read 'Rosie is a terrorist'
stand up and flip off Rosie O'Donnell
during her entire time onstage.
We hit a Jack In The Box
on the way back to the apartment, ate and then headed back to the hotel.
I started writing my blog crap for the day, getting up a good speed with it and not really noticing the fact that the stupid 'auto-save' thing wasn't connecting to Blogger
until I'd run through most of the day in my little retrospective. Once I did notice it, I decided to investigate via another of the windows I had open, which kicked me back to the hotel's main page. I went through this several times until I was forced to call the front desk who informed me that the Saturday night of a fucking convention at one AM was when they decided to bump their internet service offline for upgrades. So everything I just wrote was completely fucked.
I growlingly suggest that perhaps next time they should mention to their guests that the fucking service they've been charged for will be unavailable before just yanking the service out from under them and hang up.
Seething with rage, after a time I manage to sleep.
Be seeing you (probably with an ulcer)
(Seriously, this hotel sucks so much
.)Tag, you're it, Baggy Eyes! Dallas
, Texas Frightmare Weekend
, Doug Bradley
, Sid Haig
, Bill Moseley
, Tom Atkins
, Ashley Laurence
, True Colors Tour
, Rosie O'Donnell
, Shitty Service
, Dallas Omni Hotel