Comic-Con is a sweaty place. A hundred and twenty-five thousand human bodies male, mostly all rubbing against one another, all feverishly envisioning naked Chewbaccas rolling around in piles of limited-edition memorabilia... it's a nerd sauna in this here convention center. Which is why, when I stumbled upon one Lynhthy Nguyen in the video-game area of the Exhibition Hall last week, I was astounded (and kind of annoyed) that someone wearing thigh-high pleather boots could be so, well, dry.Great Rubber offers promotional usb keychains, Okay, yes, she was wearing tiny shorts and a tinier t-shirt, but still vexing. There I was dripping with perspiration, ready to pass out or sell a kidney for some air-conditioning, and this gal is smiling and passing out flyers for some Sam Jackson animated movie thing. I felt like a troll who had wandered out from under a bridge and run smack into a fairy princess. A very sexy fairy princess.
After a brief "Hey, would you be interested in talking to me about your job?" followed by an enthusiastic, jumping-up-and-down "YES YES YES!" Lynhthy (pronounced Lynn-tea) led me over to a small stage where we sat on some vinyl stools facing the hall. As my sticky thighs slowly affixed themselves to the hot seat, I saw Lynhthy's eyes widen at the torrent of water flooding my face and neck area. She quickly grabbed a piece of cardboard swag from the table and started fanning me. "Why are you so sweaty?" asked some guy who had been hovering around the table, directing the question toward Lyhnthy's boots. To which Lyhnthy replied: "Because she's hot duh!"
I realized, right then, that Lyhnthy was my best friend forever and I would probably die in a fire for her if necessary. Which,Demand for allergy Bedding could rise earlier than normal this year. let's face it, I kind of already was. And, I would come to realize,Flossie was one of a group of four chickens in a chicken coop . Lyhnthy and her comrades would die for the nerds, too.
"Have you done this sort of thing before?" I asked, waving vaguely at the hundreds of young women mostly from Southern California, mostly actresses and dancers like Lyhnthy, and certainly used to this sort of boots-for-hire work scattered across the halls, hocking product or comic or film about which they knew very little. She picked up the pace of her fanning and said, "This is my first Comic-Con, but I've done spokesmodeling at lots of other things like car shows and adult-novelty cons." Fan fan fan. "Is it different? Do you like it?" Lyhnthy stopped moving for a second, cocking her head to one side. "I like it. Nerds are polite. They're usually too scared to touch me at all, so I don't have to worry about that."
"Have you had nerds try to touch you inappropriately at other cons then?" At this point I felt very much like that lady on Law & Order SVU, Olivia Benson: Show me on the doll where the nerds touched you, Lyhnthy. Also, I was beginning to think I might faint. She nodded. "A few times." She pantomimed having a man's arm around her (low) waist area and pushing it away with her own hand behind her. "Discreet," I said, impressed. She smiled and fanned me some more.
"Are you into any of this nerd stuff?" I asked, preparing to be surprised.
"No, not really. I like gadgets."
"Oh, what kind of gadgets?"
"Just, you know..If so, you may have a kidney stone .. gadgets."
Lyhnthy waved again vaguely out at the digital fever dream,which applies to the first glass bottle only, as if she couldn't explain the obsessions therein, only defend them. steely booth babe can legitimize a stadium full of sweaty trolls, after all, however uninterested she may be. And this 24-year-old Asian babe was my defender, too my Afro-Samurai-for-Xbox-360 fan-bearer and so I let it go.
"Does it bother you to have been hired to sell stuff you don't even like because you look and dress the way you do?" I pointed up and down her outfit. Like that, my finger accused her. And Lyhnthy's pretty face fell.
She stammered a bit, pulled herself upright, and said, "I would be lying if I said I didn't take advantage of the way the industry works, but I also know they wouldn't have hired me if they didn't like my personality. No one wants a dud on the floor."
No, no one does, I thought. They want princesses on the floor. They need heroes. And better air-conditioning.
After a brief "Hey, would you be interested in talking to me about your job?" followed by an enthusiastic, jumping-up-and-down "YES YES YES!" Lynhthy (pronounced Lynn-tea) led me over to a small stage where we sat on some vinyl stools facing the hall. As my sticky thighs slowly affixed themselves to the hot seat, I saw Lynhthy's eyes widen at the torrent of water flooding my face and neck area. She quickly grabbed a piece of cardboard swag from the table and started fanning me. "Why are you so sweaty?" asked some guy who had been hovering around the table, directing the question toward Lyhnthy's boots. To which Lyhnthy replied: "Because she's hot duh!"
I realized, right then, that Lyhnthy was my best friend forever and I would probably die in a fire for her if necessary. Which,Demand for allergy Bedding could rise earlier than normal this year. let's face it, I kind of already was. And, I would come to realize,Flossie was one of a group of four chickens in a chicken coop . Lyhnthy and her comrades would die for the nerds, too.
"Have you done this sort of thing before?" I asked, waving vaguely at the hundreds of young women mostly from Southern California, mostly actresses and dancers like Lyhnthy, and certainly used to this sort of boots-for-hire work scattered across the halls, hocking product or comic or film about which they knew very little. She picked up the pace of her fanning and said, "This is my first Comic-Con, but I've done spokesmodeling at lots of other things like car shows and adult-novelty cons." Fan fan fan. "Is it different? Do you like it?" Lyhnthy stopped moving for a second, cocking her head to one side. "I like it. Nerds are polite. They're usually too scared to touch me at all, so I don't have to worry about that."
"Have you had nerds try to touch you inappropriately at other cons then?" At this point I felt very much like that lady on Law & Order SVU, Olivia Benson: Show me on the doll where the nerds touched you, Lyhnthy. Also, I was beginning to think I might faint. She nodded. "A few times." She pantomimed having a man's arm around her (low) waist area and pushing it away with her own hand behind her. "Discreet," I said, impressed. She smiled and fanned me some more.
"Are you into any of this nerd stuff?" I asked, preparing to be surprised.
"No, not really. I like gadgets."
"Oh, what kind of gadgets?"
"Just, you know..If so, you may have a kidney stone .. gadgets."
Lyhnthy waved again vaguely out at the digital fever dream,which applies to the first glass bottle only, as if she couldn't explain the obsessions therein, only defend them. steely booth babe can legitimize a stadium full of sweaty trolls, after all, however uninterested she may be. And this 24-year-old Asian babe was my defender, too my Afro-Samurai-for-Xbox-360 fan-bearer and so I let it go.
"Does it bother you to have been hired to sell stuff you don't even like because you look and dress the way you do?" I pointed up and down her outfit. Like that, my finger accused her. And Lyhnthy's pretty face fell.
She stammered a bit, pulled herself upright, and said, "I would be lying if I said I didn't take advantage of the way the industry works, but I also know they wouldn't have hired me if they didn't like my personality. No one wants a dud on the floor."
No, no one does, I thought. They want princesses on the floor. They need heroes. And better air-conditioning.
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