rivka

The first thing I noticed when I got on the light rail this morning was a dwarf with a bright orange wig. The next thing I noticed that the train was much more full than usual - mostly older teenagers.

The orange-hair guy didn't strike me as all that odd, but as the train pulled away I tried to figure out why it was so crowded with teens. The crowd was way too white to be a public school field trip (also, duh, it didn't occur to me until now that public school isn't exactly in session on August 8), and they seemed a little too uniformly nerdy/uncool-looking to be, say, a field trip from a majority-white suburban school. ...Were they from the magnet school for science and math?

The kid in the seat in front of me was turned all the way around, talking excitedly to the kid next to me about manga. Yes, I am slow to catch on. Because it wasn't until he used the word "fanservice" in conversation (as a verb, no less) that the penny dropped.

"Oh!" I said out loud. "It's Otakon this weekend."

"Yes, it's Otakon," said the manga-talker happily. He looked at me: long tasteful flowered skirt, subdued scoopneck shirt, hair-colored hair, lack of makeup, general air of grownup-ness. I could almost hear him thinking A mundane! I can educate her!

"Were you trying to figure out our conversation?" he asked.

"Your conversation seemed pretty straightforward," I said. "I was trying to figure out why my train was so crowded with people who didn't look like light-rail riders. Have a good time."

When I got off the train, there was a big bunch of cosplaying kids hanging out in front of Dunkin' Donuts. Presumably seeing them would've made the Otakon connection clear even to oblivious me.