The Magnet

At the Con, or the Tale of the Lonely Cosplayer.

A couple of weeks after my fateful encounter with Franchesca, I was at the convention hall for the local meetup of geeks and nerds, and having already paced the deck twice over without anything relieving me of my money, I decided to drink it in the form of an overpriced coffe. So, ten minutes after having a coffee shop clerk mispronounce my name, give me something I had not ordered and then taking it back to change it, I still had nowhere to sit. It was not so much that the place was packed, but that a bunch of single people were occupying tables that were meant for at least two. So I stood there, with my coffee in one hand and my sandwich in the other, looking left and right like a garden sprinkler, until  the pink haired girl at the table closest to me waved at me and asked me if I wanted to sit.

- Thank you- I said, trying to be polite. A few seconds of awkward silence followed, in which I pondered whether to try to introduce myself, start a casual conversation, or just start eating and be gone quickly. Fortunately, the girl went ahead and selected option 2.

- So how's the Con?

- A bit disappointing, to tell you the truth. - I replied, stopping myself from adding too many details so as not to appear full of myself.

- Tell me about it.- She said, taking a sip of her drink, some green concoction of dubious origin. - And what were you looking forward to?

- Oh, well, it's just that unless you're into having your picture taken with a few celebrities, there's not that much difference between this year and the last one. I basically had already bought everything I was interested in. And it's not like the stuff is any cheaper than the rest of the year. - I replied. Took me a couple of seconds to realize that the polite thing to do was to ask back.- How about you?

- I was supposed to stand next to a booth but they let me go. Stupid dress code.

I wasn't fully understanding her. She was wearing a big trenchcoat that made me think she was cosplaying as a genderbent Inspector Gadget. What dress code would object to that?

It was then that I noticed that she was wearing a strange pair of red boots that left her toes uncovered.

- That stupid "cosplay is not consent" bullshit really ruined things for a lot of people.- she continued ranting- Sure, I don't want to get groped or raped by a fat, greasy nerd, but why would you think I would be wearing this silly outfit if not to get guys to look at me?

- What outfit? - I asked, puzzled.

- What do you mean- she asked, then interrupted herself- Oh, right, the coat.

She looked left and right like someone who is about to do something they're not supposed to.

- Would you come to the side, please? I don't want us to get in trouble.

I stood up and placed myself between her and the wall, with no one behind me.

She turned to face me while still sitting, and quickly opened her coat and closed it, flashing me.

It took me a second to realize that she was actually wearing something. Her costume consisted of three triangles of white cloth with a pink trim at the top, barely held together by blue straps. It's not that it didn't fit her, it was clearly designed to be too small.

- Again, what outfit? - I asked sarcastically.

- Yeah, that's kind of what they said.- she replied and sighed.- But what's the fun in...that?

She pointed around, bringing my attention to the five or six cosplaying girls that were closer to us. I had not noticed, but there was a marked difference with the previous year. Plate armor, military fatigues, baggy suits and just specific arrangements of otherwise everyday clothes were all we could see. No longer spandex, bodystockings or microkinis like hers.