The “Why”
Signing up for Konpai! Con in Omaha NE was a direct result of subscribing to the YOLO way of life Katie and I (My name is Tim) adopted about 1.5 years ago, this consisted of the following mantra: “Question no decisions and make no second guesses”. Of course, we both had an idea of what we were signing up for; an ambiguous, yet purposeful collection of strange events, strange people, and strange would-be memories all squashed into a 10-12 hour event at as convention center connected to a children’s waterpark. We thought we would go for the sake of people-watching and humorous snap-chats – almost like wedding crashers: in it for the food and shock-value, and nothing more than that. We thought we would be outsiders; little red blips on the BS-tracking heads-up display that every one of these “Kon” people shared and that Katie and I lacked. We thought the Ash and Misty costumes were novel but under-prepared. We picked them up in 20 minutes off Amazon and dawned them for the first time 10 minutes prior to the event. From the people, we anticipated a judgmental, but kind-on-the-surface facade that usually comes from the typical business-man in a corporate office: friendly, but with the potential – and likely intention - to stab you in the back at the moment it benefits him. Lastly, we had no intention of doing anything more than videotaping interesting happenings, eating Japanese food, and trying our best to blend our orange-hat-selves with the green-bill of the convention. These were our expectations. Below is our story.
The day started out with high hopes for an interesting experience. We were excited, but by no means rushed to get to Konpai Con. The tickets were a mere $20 each and even though the event was scheduled from 10am to 2am, I don’t think either of us were confident we’d stay that long. Katie and I are the kind of people who can make the most of almost any situation, and if we come across the rare situation that isn’t quite jiving, we can sacrifice the initial investment of time and money and find something exponentially better to do for peak utility.
After an hour or so of eating an entire loafs-worth of toast, we decided it was time to dawn our Ash and Misty costumes and try to make the most of an event we knew nothing about. Katie took all of 5 minutes to prepare her clothing, with another 5-10 minutes dedicated to make-up. Meanwhile, I tried to figure out how my red Misty-themed suspenders worked. We had some last-minute alterations to the overall costume design which included making the over-sized yellow Walmart tee into a cutoff and ditching the 4-inch booty-shorts for jeans for a more masculine touch on Misty (this was so I felt less homosexual and self-conscious about my skinny pale legs – and probably ass cheeks too). When the costumes were perfected, we grabbed out all-so-important plush-Pokémon companions and took the token bathroom-selfie before hitting the road.
On the way to the convention center, we thought it be wise to stop at the local Walmart. Our excuse for the trip was finding Velcro patches so the Pokémon pushes could sit on our shoulders; in reality, we just wanted to test the impact out costumes had on the general public. We didn’t get the reaction we thought we would. The first person who spoke to us was an older woman with a small group. She looked at Katie, with the Ash-Ketchum vest, signature red hat, Pikachu in hand – then she looked at me: torn up yellow cut-off, jeans, an orange wig, and Togepi and she asks us…”Excuse me, do you work here?”. Looking back, I wish I would’ve responded more cleverly, but we were both so taken aback by the question, all we could mutter was a polite “no, sorry”. In what universe did this woman come from to ask if Ash and Misty worked at Walmart? I guess a question like that is conducive to the stereotype Walmart carries. We found our Velcro straps and were ready to leave this world now. A few funny looks, and loving, nostalgia-fueled smiles later, we were headed to the world outside of Walmart doors; there was a kid handing out free cupcakes which was odd but welcomed. The cupcake provided us the good-vibes needed to venture to Kon. We got in the Mazda, pulled up the Pokémon them song on Spotify, and blasted our anthem proudly as we pealed out. The girl selling girl scout cookies out front approved.
We entered the convention center on the swanky, freshly renovated end. There were some average family-type people along with well-dressed business people giving us puzzled looks as we stood in the foyer in a confused silence. After muttered discussion, we began to leave. A nice employee of the convention used her skills in common-sense to determine we were there for the event. This was the first test: do two 20-somethings dressed in orange wigs, a blue vest, a cartoon-inspired hat, and holding a pair of Japanese-designed plush animals belong to the nerd-fest that is Konpai! Con... YES. Yes, we did.
The Con was on the other end of the building. We went from high-class corporate America to pure nerd-utopia as we descended the 6-8 steps into the mostly-unknown. We were complete outsiders – or at least we thought we were. On the surface, we looked good– but it felt like we were spies infiltrating a foreign land. No one gave us a strange look, no one made any comments, it just felt like we had no chance in fitting in. There was a big secret – an elaborate inside-joke, like a humorous innuendo hidden in a kid’s movie – and were the seven-year-olds in the audience reserving our laughter and poor taste for the tacky fart-jokes and over-acted theatrics.
Just then – something happened – something we never thought would happen. A girl, dressed very nicely as an anime character Katie and I didn’t recognize - asked us for a picture – US – What?? Did she not get the memo that Katie and I didn’t belong here? Was there not a digital ticker in her Heads-Up-Display that read “outsiders, stand-clear”? No – it was just a girl – dressed as an anime girl – and she wanted our picture, because she loved Pokémon and thought we looked great. Katie and I were elated; “of course we’ll take a picture with you!,” we exclaimed.
It was at that moment our confidence began to rise; it was by no means full grown, but it was now a sprouted-seed. We gleamed like children at a local toys-r-us with a blank check and no parental supervision. Someone took our picture – our costumes were a success. We proceeded to venture into the “vendor room” to see what wares come with a Japanese cultural appreciation convention.
The vendor room was pretty cool. Maybe 20 tables full of everything from traditional tea sets, to pins, to plushes, to authentic Japanese treats. The first girl on the right invited us to her booth for some Halloween-themed Sweet-tart “bones” I got those. Katie opted for the orange box of nerds in the candy dish. There was sign to the left of the dish that read “For the pervert in your life, ask about our 18+ items”. Fascinated, we referenced the sign. She smiled and motioned to a large, blue, mysterious metal box to her right. The box came complete with duel compartments, latches, and locks She told us in order to see what’s in the box, we needed ID and had to pick up our badges from the check-in counter. We meandered around until we found the check-in counter and were given our official ID bracelets: “Stylistic Giraffe Spot” for me and “Erotic Porcupine” for miss Katie. We made our way back to the mysterious girl with the box. She welcomes us back and checked our ages on the badges. With an affirmative smile, she began unlocking the box. The first drawer opened and in it were 3 varieties of…. penis-themed pins. That was it. On the pins, was a quote that said something along the lines of “for my little dicky’s”. I think it was our lack of a real response that prompted the next reveal. “Wait, there is another compartment,” she eloquently teased. Still fascinated, we eagerly awaited the reveal of …. small one-inch rubber penis things…. interesting, but not what we expected. It wasn’t the product Katie and I needed in our lives, but we thanked her for her pitch and headed to the next vendor. We saw a dude selling Japanese imported candy, some girls selling stuffed animals, and a cool business man with a giant 3D-scanner. This man scans your body and transforms the image into a statue via 3D printer. Katie, being the computer engineer genius she is, asked the man questions using a lingo way over my head and flashed a pic of the brochure. It was a sweet business idea and I’m sure it was a major success for weddings and conventions alike. If Katie and I had $200 on us, we probably would have gotten it done.
Next, Katie started a conversation with a vendor selling a spell book. She asked him if the spells were effective and told him how she once attempted to summon a demon to terrorize the Earth. Katie expressed her disappointment in previous spell-books and asked what kind of spells the man was successful at casting. He consoled her with the now-so-obvious fact that she probably didn’t have the right herbs to compliment the demon-summoning mantras and that is why nothing happened. Come to think of it, later in the day, Katie came across a boy selling vials of ambiguous liquids. She asked him if any of them were strong enough to poison her enemies. In retrospect, I probably should have had a conversation with her about all that.
Growing Confidence: Signing up for Stuff
After the vendors, we decided to look around the convention center for more interesting events. By now countless people had commented on our clever reverse-gendered Ash and Misty costumes. We had taken pictures with half a dozen people and shared great conversation with all of them. There was a reoccurring topic that came up regarding another Kon event in Kansas City next month. Several people invited us to come along. We felt good – like really good. This was an event we intended to view from the perspective of wall-flowers and we were truly becoming part of the action on the floor. Still, something was missing. We still hadn’t become “one of them,” and maybe we never would, but the overwhelming amount of picture request, invitations, and compliments encouraged us to at least switch the days mission from “observe” to “participate”. We channeled out growing confidence and pulled out our ever-so-helpful Konpai-Con guide book. It was time to schedule some panel-room events. Events that peaked out interest included:
6:00PM – 7:00PM: Masquerade – a Cosplay modelling and Performance competition
7:00PM – 8:00PM: Erotic 18+ Fan-Fiction public reading
At first glance, the rave seemed like it be the most fun; the cosplay contest seemed self-explanatory, and the erotic fan-fiction session was something I think Katie and I would have regretted missing – because, wow.
Just then we hatched an idea: We had costumes people seemed to enjoy, Why the hell can’t we enter the Masquerade contest? Our YOLO lifestyle would have been completed tattered if we didn’t sign up. We ventured to the Masquerade sign-up counter. Katie grabbed the sign-up sheet, filled out the typical info and then paused at the “will you be performing a skit?” section. Without a second thought, she gave me a WTF not smile and put Yes. We had no intention or plan, but why not. It be fun. To be honest, I would’ve put “No” but that is why we make such a good adventuring pair. If there is any doubt in one of us, the other pushes the doubt to “eff it why not”. By now, it was 3:00PM. The practice for the Masquerade performers was at 5:00PM and we were starving. We decided to take a break from Kon-land to revisit the outside-world for a trip to Olive Garden.
As we got in the Mazda and headed down Dodge street, we both felt a bit of a disconnect. Have we finally adapted to the anime-filled, furry-frenzy that is Konpai Kon? Things in the outside world were duller, less colorful; more sterile. It was an interesting feeling, but Olive Garden has bomb-ass breadsticks so there was no time to question our decision to leave. As we pulled into Olive Garden, we noticed it was pretty packed for 3:00PM We went into the packed lobby to a confused party of people wondering what Pokémon we intended on capturing in the sort-of fancy, but not really, restaurant environment that is Olive Garden. Knowing we only had 2 hours, we crossed the street into an Applebee’s to eat and discuss plans for our big show.
The people at Applebee’s loved us. Kids laughed, baby’s smiled, the guy from the Jose Cuero poster raised his glass. The interesting thing was the lack of people asking the obvious question of why were dressed up. As a pair, we seemed to create an impenetrable force, blocking the average person from questioning us. When Katie left the table, our waitress rushed over and asked what was going on. She seemed genuinely interested. I think people like her are surprised when someone so different can be so personable and familiar. In her defense, Katie and I were probably in the smaller percentage of people who fit in more with the outside world than the Kon world, so it really made our waitress’s day hearing about the “other side”. Katie returned and then I went to the restroom, only to return to the Manager of Applebee’s having an engaging conversation with Katie this time about her Ash Ketchum costume and the fun event just a few miles East of there. I feel like I have a pretty good vibe with people – being a Marketing major with nearly a decade of people-facing work experience on the resume, but Katie, a Computer Engineering math genius ironically has me beat. I’m convinced anyone in any setting could sit and chat with this girl for hours and never get bored.
As for our impending presentation, we decided to reenact the classic season-one plot line of Pokémon when Ash steals Misty’s bike and promises to “bring it back someday”. It was genius. Surely everyone there would know the scene, it took no props to execute, and it had a small enough amount of lines to (hopefully) memorize in the next hour. Instead of practicing much at all though, we enjoyed our mozzarella sticks and Mac & Cheese.
After amazing hospitality from Applebee’s, it was time to face our fate as actors. In the car, we ran through our lines a few times, arrived back into the alternate-reality that was Konpai Con, and went into the practice room. We were one of about 10 acts. Most of them were simply modelling – with about 2 other performers – and a “halftime-show” performer in a purple wig, equipped with a yellow recorder (yes, that instrument we all learned in grade school) and a Team-Rocket shirt. We’ve seen this guy before and considering the theme, it made sense to sit with him. He was a cool guy. He explained to us that he has won so many Cosplay presentation awards with his recorder, that he respectfully declined the right to participate in the competitive arm of the event just so that someone else would have a chance to win the prize. Two things here: one – what confidence this recorder-playing James displayed. He didn’t just think he would be a shoe-in; he knew. 2 – What humility to drop out for the benefit of others. That’s one major theme Katie and I saw throughout the whole event so far; empathy. Whether out of self-confidence, or what, people here genuinely cared about each other. It was a family. I’m a pretty jaded dude, but after meeting a handful of people, I can honestly say I’d trust anyone there if I lost my wallet or phone or house keys; just good people. Anyway, he told us about his impressive library of recorder-translated covers from “Cake by the Ocean” to “Bad Romance” to the “Pokémon Theme”. He was very proud; we respected that.
As we waiting for instruction, a girl – tall, attractive, darker skinned was talking to the judges about her cosplay costume. It was 100% hand made in a rubber/plastic/paper material and very detailed. She had a level of self-confidence unmatched by most people in the outside work too. This girl was as close to naked as I’d seen at the event. The smallest skirt, nearly 75% of her breasts showing, and yet it totally made sense here. It was skanky, it wasn’t controversial. It was Cosplay and in this setting, if the character has her ass and tits hanging out of armor, it only made sense to replicate it accurately. The costume – and her weapon – were pretty breathtaking. She crafted all of it by hand and even had the time to craft another suit of armor for her friend – who didn’t complete but was there for moral support. Katie and I were seated with that friend and were asking questions about their characters and background. The friend was in the Airforce (crazy, right?) she moved to Omaha recently due to an altercation with mother who tried to exercise her (yes like perform a demon exorcism on her). This girl was quite friendly, so either the demon exorcism worked or the devil is a real nice guy because she made good company.
The instructions for the perforce were simple enough; the competition was fierce though. Speaking at a Cosplay performance seems like a non-typical activity based on the amount of background tracks used by the other performers. The themes were elaborate too. One group of girls personified Mew and Mew-Two and reenacted a battle scene with a “faith-in-humanity-restored” theme where human-Mew-Two found out that people were mostly good in spirit. Another girl combined live-voice with a really dark background track as she spoke to a flower growing out of her shoulder. For whatever reason, the girl had to slay her shoulder-flower in order to live. It was pretty dark, but passionate. Katie and I were not at all discouraged though – we got up there as our goofy selves, acted out our scene perfectly and came off the practice-stage with new-found life. Of the 500+ people at the convention, only 10 acts were performing in front of the masses, and Katie and I were one of them. We faked it until we made it, and we were making it just fine. Still no one in the practice area really clapped when we concluded, but I think it was out of indifference and not distaste. Surely the 500+ people in the audience at 6:00PM would be entertained. Once practice ended, I was sure there would be some sort of waiting-period before the show; nope – the entire crowd came right through the door and found their seats. It was real now.
The folks running the contest wasted no time. Introductions were short and sweet. The first modelling contestant was on stage almost instantly. With only a handful of other performers, we knew our time was coming fast. Before I knew it, Katie and I were in line and our names were announced. I jumped on stage, took position with my imaginary fishing pole and began to project my voice to the crowd. Katie came on stage right on cue as I “caught” her and Pikachu with the rod. We recited out lines in a fashion we considered flawless and it was over a quickly as it began. The crowd cheered – nothing over-the-top, but they liked it and we felt amazing. A hug, a high five, and 2 very happy smiles later, we were back in our seats relieved and proud. Our friend with the recorder was now on stage, entertaining the crowd as the judges made their decisions.
Katie and I didn’t win any of the awards, but everyone who did win totally deserved it. The preparation, craftsmanship, and drive these people had absolutely called for some recognition. Katie and I didn’t need any physical prize; we felt on top of the world and no physical object would have topped that feeling.
A few Pokémon fans in the crowd asked for our picture with them and then we were back in the lobby with a whole new energy. This was pure euphoria. We belonged at Kanpai Con without a doubt and we were loving it. Every “weird” thing suddenly made sense. Any feeling that may have otherwise been judgmental or confused turned into acceptance and appreciation. The endorphins unleashed performing in front of the unknown crowd gave us a high that couldn’t be lowered. The best part? All the people from the crowd that greeted us, shook our hand, and expressed per joyful nostalgia regarding our little performance. We made their day and they made ours. Everything was perfect.
By now, it was time for a break, so we headed into the video-game room for some Sonic the Hedgehog. We paused the game when a mysterious figure in red came up and began to chat. He enjoyed the show and made small talk before standing up, looking at some inked-text on his wrist, and telling us, “Hey, you guys should go to room 127.” He left pretty quickly, and of course we were ready for a new adventure. Room 127 was down a little corridor outside of the main convention. It was a room with lights, alcohol, video games, and people in the party mood. Next to it was an all-ages hotel room complete with Ramon noodles, rice, chips, soda, and more – all for free, out of the goodness of someone’s heart. Katie and I refueled here while watching a DVD of Zootopia. Appropriately enough, we would soon be accompanied by a pack of furries there for the show. Everyone seemed chill as fuck; there was another mention of the next Kon – taking place in KC in March. At this point, I’m thinking it be a good idea to sign up. For now, though, the clock was striking 8:00PM and we had an 18+ panel to attend. We thanked everyone for the food and headed out to Panel Room 1. Unfortunately, the erotic fan-fiction reading was cancelled in favor for an “anything goes” Q&A with Greg Ayres. This was a good time though. We got to sit and relax while we listened to sexually-explicit questions and stories from Greg and fans alike. It wasn’t 100% my humor, but we both found things to laugh at, and I think it was a success overall. Nothing much else to say about the panel. It took about an hour and that meant we were only 1 hour away from the rave at 10PM.
We had pretty high expectations for the rave – spoiler alert – it wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. But hey, at the time, it sounded like something we needed to get turnt for. Here’s the funny thing folks, I’m a 23 male – id call myself pretty “normal” went to public high school, a popular university in Lincoln, worked jobs in retail, had a few close friends and a bunch of close acquaintances, etc. etc. Well my thing is, I literally never consumed a lick of alcohol: Ever. Like one time when I was a little kid, I took a sip of beer by mistake, but I’m fairly certain I spit that out real quick. My avoidance of alcohol went as far as refusing to drink the Champaign at the countless weddings I’ve attended in high school and college. Some of the people in my family have what I’d call a drinking problem – but nothing like serious: no DUI’s or jail time; honestly, in the grand scheme of things, I don’t know anyone with a real quantifiable issue; I just always avoided the stuff out of random fear. Well, I had the same relationship with marijuana, and I told myself I’d try that once in my life. That moment was reserved for a trip with my little brother who I took to Colorado this past fall. We smoked weed on a mountain for the first time in my life. That story deserves a book of its own, but can be summed up as: a “hot mess”
Anyway, as a self-described YOLO-lifer, I knew one day would come I’d have to give alcohol a try. I never intended on getting drunk – the headaches and vomit just never appealed to me. No, instead I knew at some point in my life, I would have to get what insiders call “tipsy”. This particular experience was forever reserved in my heart to take place with Katie. I never knew when or where it would go down, but Kanpai Con in Omaha, NE in February of 2017 seemed like the right setting. In full disclosure, I was terrified; I’d imagine 99.99% of people reading this are perplexed; but after my first substance-encounter (the weed) I had fair reason to fear doing something else unique. Katie rightfully encouraged me that weed and alcohol are not in any was similar and she accurately reminded me that I took about 6X more THC than was recommended for an experience weed smoker. That being said, she was kind a patient enough not to pressure me too much, The YOLO life shouldn’t be stressful. In the end, though, I needed a “Just fuckin go for it” from her and decided I’d listen. We travelled back to the mysterious corridor with the hotel-room parties and I turned to her for some sort of pep-talk (I know dramatic, right?) I repeatedly asked her for advice on what to ask the bar tender for and how to ask for it. I feel like this was likely similar to explaining sex to a 40 year old virgin. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to repay her for the patience and understanding here. She told me to ask for a “Rum and Coke” I have heard of this before, this would be okay. She pushed me into the room and leaned back against the hallway. I was alone now (btw, she is only 20 so she couldn’t get in). I awkwardly trotted over to the bartender and did what I was good at: started a conversation with him. We talked for about 5 minutes until he asked what drink I wanted. At this point I turned around and gave Katie what I’m sure was a goofy-ass inquisatory smile. I’m not sure how long I was turned away from the man, but when I turned back around to face him, I exclaimed, “Rum and Coke please!” as if I answered some kind of challenging riddle on a game show. He handed me a concoction I could only describe as fascinating. I took it, walked over to a group of guys, and instead of being a normal, social human, I did the next-most-popular thing and pulled out my phone. I texted Katie – who was literally 15 feet away from me – and gave the simple “Hi” text – just to make sure reality was still in check. After a few nervous sips and unnecessary text messages, she texted me, “I think you can come out to the hallway”. I unglued by eyes from the glass screen and moseyed on back to Katie. She asked how things were going and honestly the experience was fairly underwhelming. I guess when you think a first-Rum & Coke will have a similar effect as 60 MG of THC, things are sure to be underwhelming. Still, after the cup was empty, I began to feel different. The world took on a strange “filtered” view. I felt more talkative than usual and things were funnier. I think this was part placebo, part alcohol, but nonetheless it was a cool feeling.
While sipping my drink in the hall, 2 employees of the hotel appeared and spoke with us. They were entertained and partially confused by all the action and found pleasure in talking to us. Looking back, I feel like I was probably a bit over-friendly and talkative due to the alcohol but it was a great conversation. Katie was basically pulling out all the stops in her conversation with one of the boys, trying to convince him to take us to the roof of the building. I’m honestly surprised it didn’t work out – it seemed so possible at the time based on my perspective – and she is a convincing person; I would’ve done it if I were that kid. In the end though, we simply invited the employees to join us in the rave (which has now been going on for about 45 minutes). While this pseudo-tipsy feeling was at peak, Katie and I made our way to the rave. The crowd was extremely slim, but the lights were amazing and the music was LIT. Despite the lack of people who showed up, I felt absolutely pumped. This was a rave. This was a party. Anddddd that was it. The alcohol – or placebo effect – or both wore off almost in an instant and as I looked around I realized there really wasn’t much a rave going down. Honestly, it was lame. Katie and I don’t really dance all that well without a dense crowd to hide our skill-less bouncing around. It was fruitless to stick around any longer. We left the rave about 2 hours prematurely, but never looked back. This event had been life changing. One of the greatest days of both of our lives, and there was nothing either of us did – or didn’t do – that could have take away from that. Things were perfect. Well, we were about 98% satisfied. There was still one thing we didn’t quite understand yet…
The night came to a close in a bowling alley parking lot across town – we were parked there for about an hour holding an iPhone in seclusion playing “furry porn” because neither of us knew what the hell that was after our entire night at this convention. We watched a small handful of videos, jotting little metaphorical notes in our brains that I’m sure will never really be needed (you never know though) When we felt we had a grasp on the furry-sex-fetish, we were NOW 100% satisfied and ready to go home.
We summed up the day, we played guitar, and we drank tea. Sleep was sure to be deep tonight. With the laundry list of interesting accomplishments and knowledge-gained, our brains would need a good night’s rest to process everything. In the end, I can sum up the night in one cohesive thought: we entered a completely unknow realm with the sole intention of people-watching and concealing ourselves well enough in the crowd. By the end of the convention, we were not wall-flowers, were part of the garden; a garden with a shitton of exotic plants and colorful produce.
