The Importance of Undergarments & Science Fiction Conventions-Part IV

Standard disclaimer: This is a work of FICTION. All persons, places, and events are FICTION. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is purely coincidental.

Part IV

When my heart settled back into place, it was then that I realized that she was talking to me. So naturally I did the manly thing and ushered out in my most charismatic tone possible the first coolest words I could imagine at the moment.
"Excuse me, are you speaking to me?" I asked. ( I said it was at the moment, what did you expect.)
"Yes," she replied with a smile that fused the rubber soles of the Payless shoes I was wearing to the floor. "Yes, I was talking to you," she said again.

**Insert Moment of Decision Time**

Do I stay or do I go, (some song lyric which I can't remember the title to). I actually thought, for a very brief instance, of going off to a panel and giving the table to her. But then an epiphany of extraordinary proportion rocked my world!

(angelic quotes)Maybe just maybe she wants to sit here because I am here. (angelic quotes)

I almost choked on my own thought which is actually harder and more dangerous than choking on actual words. Try it sometime and you will see what I mean. Anyway I figured why not? I didn't have anything to lose considering that the panel selection of the hour mainly consisted of drum circles or a reading by John...somebody.

I quickly looked around the bar to see if anyone I knew was there to ensure that if I got dumped in vivid color they wouldn't see it and then have the details show up in somebody's blog or something. People that go to conventions will blog about anything (consider yourself warned)!

Finally when I realized that she was still standing there, (of course remember that all of these thoughts were a blur of mere seconds in my mind), I spoke.
"Sure," I said loudly so that anyone nearby could see what was happening in case I woke up the next day with no recollection of the event. Proof is always important in these situations as you will see as this story progresses.
She smiled and sat down. And there she remained not saying a word and just looking at me.
"So," I began, " you're obviously not here for the convention judging by your attire. Are you here for another event, a party or something?"
"No," she said, "I am here for the convention. I want to observe the rituals of the gathering."
"The what?" I stammered.
"The ritual," she repeated. "I've heard that these events are quite popular so I wanted to see what it was comprised of."
"Ah, okay," I said wondering what the heck she was talking about. I assumed she was a foreigner or something that came from a country where they didn't have any conventions. But she didn't have any accent that I could discern. Could she be pulling my leg? Maybe she was just one of those snarky women that go to cons and prey on innocent men like myself and watch dwarf mud wrestling competition for thrills---(sorry for ther image-but they are out there).
"Are they not popular?" she asked sounding disappointed and interuppting my most pessimistic thought of impending rejection of the absurd.
"They are, it's just that...well the way you are dressed, you kind of stand out at a convention. Is this your first one?"
"Yes it is."
"A con virgin," I said without even thinking and wished I could take it back. Not only did I insert foot in mouth--but numerous other anatomical parts as well.
"A virgin," she said, "a young woman who has never had sexual intercourse. I don't understand the correlation of the two? Can you please explain that comment?"

To be continued...