This past weekend was spent at the second Scares That Care convention in Williamsburg, Va. I’ve been to a ton of these conventions at this point, but I always have a good time whenever I go to one, even if I’m not going for the guests. I should clarify that when I say I don’t necessarily go for the guests, I don’t mean the authors, but that’s another (upcoming) entry. Plus, the fact that a friend of mine generally gets a vendor’s table at these cons makes the decision to go a lot easier because I can hang out in the vendor’s room the majority of the time.
This particular convention is a young one. As mentioned, it was just the second year for it and has yet to build a huge (film) guest list. Don’t get me wrong, Piper Laurie of Carrie and The Hustler (among others) was there, as well as Kim Coats (Tig on Sons of Anarchy), but there wasn’t really anyone else there that I either hadn’t seen or met before, or wow’d me enough to want to meet. Plus it’s really gotten to the point that what these people are charging is fucking ridiculous. Coats was charging $40 for an autograph. That’s insanity. Granted, his character is fantastic on Sons, but that price is not justifiable, especially for a working actor. But if there are people are willing to pay it, I guess he can charge whatever he wants. I’m just patiently (and hopefully) waiting for the day when fans as a whole say “fuck it” and decide they want to stop being raped by the people they admire and that fee comes down to what it used to be when I first started going to cons: $20 for the headliners, $10 – $15 for everyone else.
Moving on, me bitching about the price of autographs isn’t the point of this entry, it’s what happened Saturday night, the night Deebo saved the little girl from child slavery.
For those that don’t know, Deebo is the name of the character Tiny “Zeus” Lister played in the Ice Cube-penned comedy Friday (if you haven’t seen that, go watch it now; I’ll wait). He happened to be a guest at this year’s Scares That Care, which I thought was cool (but not $25 for picture-with-him cool). As it goes, Saturday night, a few of us were chilling in the lobby of the hotel, drinking and having a casual time. Deebo strolls up with his lady and takes the couch that was opposite of where we were sitting. (It was set up as such where he was sitting was facing, say, north, and then I guess this thing that holds plants — like a couch table I suppose — on the back of it, then the two chairs where we were sitting facing south.) Basically, we couldn’t really see him but we could here him. And the first thing we heard was, “HOTEL! Can someone clean this up!?!”
That’s right readers, he shouted “HOTEL!” over to the desk that was approximately 15 – 20 feet away, at 12:00 in the morning, to get the attention of the staff so someone would remove the cups and bottle that had collected on coffee table…in the lobby. To the hotel’s credit, two young ladies ran over and collected the garbage. I thought this was a bit douchey. Well, it was, no two ways about it, but what happened some time later more than made up for it.
At some point not too long after The Coffee Table Incident of 2015, a little girl was seen wandering back and forth from the elevator that Deebo and his lady faced and the bar. I didn’t think too much of it other than, “Wow, it’s kind of late for her to be out here.” Deebo clearly had the same thought because when the little girl stopped in front of the elevator the second or third time, we heard a “HOTEL! WHY IS THIS LITTLE GIRL BY HERSELF?”
Then, to no one in particular, “How old is she!?”
To which my friend Zig replied, “10!”
“What time is it!?”
To which I offered, “12:30!”
“HOTEL! WHERE IS THIS 10-YEAR-OLD’S MOTHER! IT’S 12:30 IN THE MORNING!”
A manager ran over to the child and started talking to her, assumedly to find out about her missing parents. As he was doing this, Deebo offered, “You need to go find her mother!”
The manager, clearly nervous and hating his job at this particular moment, made a move to head to the bar that was down the hall.
“Where are you going! Don’t leave that girl alone!” Deebo suggested.
I don’t know what happened then. I think the manager took the girl with him to find the mother. All I remember at this point is Deebo turned his attention to us, where he expressed his (rightful) disbelief. Honestly, what kind of mother let’s her child wander a fucking convention of drunks at 12:30 – 1:00 in the morning. The kid was completely out of eyesight from the mom because apparently she was found down a hallway that was off the main one where we were sitting. And even if the kid was in eyesight, I’m far from a prude, but an
10-year-old 8-year-old (we found out later Zig was two years off) should probably at least be in the room by 12:30. But maybe that’s why I’m not a parent.
Eventually, mom showed up at the elevator with the child. Joy!
“What’s wrong with you?” Pondered Deebo. “Why isn’t that child in her room? Why is she running around the hotel without supervision at 12:30 in the morning? Someone could take her!”
All valid points, to which the mother-of-the-year said, “Well, it’s her vacation too.”
Uh…yeah. I guess that makes sense, right?
“Child,” Deebo said, “you come to my table tomorrow and I’ll give you THREE pictures. You come see me. Three pictures, any ones you want, and I’ll give them to you.”
That’s a $75 value, y’all. I’m thinking that’s a great deal. Mom wasn’t entirely impressed because she came back with, “We’ll see.”
Deebo did not like that answer. I didn’t actually see the look he gave her from my position, but I sure as fuck felt it.
“That’s it,” he said, “I’m done. I have to leave. I can’t be here. I need to leave. You guys handle this!”
He was talking to us. Luckily for us, I guess, by that point there was nothing to handle. If you’ve ever seen Deebo, you know he can be pretty fucking terrifying when he’s acting. Imagine him mad for real real.
As he was leaving, he said to us, “I love you guys.”
To which I replied, “I LOVE YOU TOO, DEEBO!”
No shame. No apologies.