by The Creeping Spleen » Wed Jun 25, 2014 10:29 am
I can remember back in the mid 90s, AKA Comics hosting a signing by some of the guys behind "Crisis" (a comic that desperately wanted to be a grown up 2000AD, but died on its arse).
Anyway, there was half a dozen or so artists and writers from the comic, all sitting behind a trestle table pitched midway between AKA and Obelist. The only two "names" I remember were writer John Smith (who signed himself THE John Smith), and publicist Igor Goldkind. Plus various pieces of Crisis related merchandise on the table, promo copies of the comic, original artwork, and a dozen or so t-shirts etc.
So, there's a queue of folks waiting to get stuff signed (I was nearer the front door than the head of the queue), when suddenly the fire alarm goes off. No one bats an eyelash, the fire alarm was known to go off if someone so much as sneezed near it.
Then one of the guys from AKA comes out and says it's a real fire alarm, someone smelled smoke, fire brigade's on the way, can we all just bugger off for a bit while they look into things.
As all the punters trooped out the door, muttering curses, I had a bit of a brainwave - "If I loiter unobtrusively near the entrance, I can nip back in once the all clear's been given and get to the front of the queue."
Eventually, we get the nod to head back in (the "fire" had been someone in the first floor kitchen trying to make a cheese toastie which had gotten a wee bit out of hand) and found that most of the t-shirts etc. had mysteriously gone missing...
Another sunrise with my sad captains, with who I choose to lose my mind,
And if it's all we only pass this way but once, what a perfect waste of time.