I had to bail at the last minute for Gen Con 2009, because of a tremendously ginormous project that was crashing down around me like chocolate walls at a fat camp.
Now those of you who've come to see me at Gen Con can attest to the madness unparalleled that permeates every cubic inch of "the best four days in gaming." By noon the first day, I typically havea stack of sketchbooks, playmats, and other paraphenalia, covered in post-its of the dreams those hopeful clean pages whish to be impregnated with.
Unfortunately, try as I might, many of them go home with nothing but the tear-stains of disappointment. There's just so little down time. Honestly, the first thing that happens when the floor closes to the attendees, is I sprint at full speed to the bathroom, and take a fifteen to twenty minute wizz.
So anyway, a very nice gal and her husband were there this year, and my wife relayed the story of how they were disappointed they couldn't get a sketch from their favorite artist. (Who was not me.) From the artist's point of view, this is quite understandable. But, being the grubby little opportunist I am, I attempted to usurp the position of favorite artist by making sure they had something to show for thier Gen Con experience.
Maybe I shouldn't be telling you this. It could set a dangerous precedent...