Me: “Good morning. Is this where you sell convention t-shirts, here at the registration desk?”
Nice Registration Lady: “Yes it is! Would you like one?”
Me: “Yes, please. I’d like to buy a 5XL, or as I like to call it — Viking Medium.”
NRL: “So then what’s 4XL called –Delicate Little Flower?”
Me: “I like that. I like that a lot. You’d make a Badass Lady Viking.”
NRL: “That’s the 3XL.”
Me: (long pause)
Me: “You just really get me.”
Me: “How was your role playing game?”
Danger Monkey, age 10: “Awesome! In the game I built a giant robot that’s 45 stories tall and I can make it do anything from the control room in his head.”
Me: “Cool. How do you get to a control room that’s 45 stories up?”
DM: “It has stairs inside.”
Me: “Wow! What a climb.”
DM: “It’s OK. I installed a lemonade stand about half way up.”
Me: “That’s — very creative.”
DM: “It also serves hot chocolate and Caprese salad.”
Me: (long pause)
Me: “You’re a pretty amazing guy, you know?”
DM: “Yeah, I know.”
(loud crash upstairs)
Me: “What was that giant crashing noise?!?”
(long pause)
Little Miss Thing, age 7, down the stairs: “I’m OK.”
Me: “What happened?”
(long pause)
LMT: “Turns out I can’t fly.”
Very Vocal Viking 