Water + Otakon = Meme?

“I got your ice cold water! And it’s only one dollar!”

If you were at Otakon 2011 for any length of time, you are not only familiar with the above words, but they are tattooed onto your brain.

From Thursday through early Sunday afternoon, one of the numerous beverage vendors lined up along Pratt Street outside of the Baltimore Convention Center is standing out from the rest. More ripped than Major Armstrong, clad in sunglasses, shorts, and (why not?) a weight belt, the vendor enthusiastically sings over and over into a bullhorn the following chant:

“I got your ice cold water!
And it’s only one dollar!
I got your ice cold water!
And it’s only one dollar!
I got your ice, ice,
Cold, cold
Ice, ice
Cold, cold
I got your ice cold water…”

The chant appeared to be set to the theme from “Mighty Morphin’ Power Rangers.” Peddling nothing more than half-liter bottles of Nirvana brand water, his simple yet unique approach to advertising drew crowds and their cameras. At one point, even Otakon staff members were seen filming his pitch for inclusion on the website.

“Can I autotune you?” an attendee in the crowd asks, his Droid already recording.

The man behind the bullhorn goes by the name of Josh. He and his wife Candice, who assists with sales, are Baltimore residents and were also present at Otakon 2010, sans musical chant. During their four sixteen-hour workdays outside the convention center, the couple estimates that over 100 cases of water were sold. “Honestly, I’ve lost count,” Candice says. At twenty-four bottles to a case, this translates to a gross profit of close to $2500, minus the Baltimore street vendor fees.

During Otakon’s hiatus, Josh’s day job is living proof as to why he is so overzealous about hydration.

“Personal trainer,” he says before turning away to complete another sale.

He may be a quiet man when it comes to conversation, but Josh was noticeably appreciative of his new fans. He posed for photographs, performed for rolling video cameras, and never forgot a “thank you.” Before long, otaku passing by were giving the pair loose singles simply because of his notoriety.

His chant was being repeated by attendees. Pro- and anti-“ice cold water guy” messages were filling up Twitter, Tumblr, and Facebook. Weight belts were flying off of local sporting goods store shelves, quickly becoming part of last-minute cosplay outfits.

OK, I made that last part up. Nevertheless, the fact that Josh and his catchy chant were circulating around the Internet like Google Plus invites could only mean one thing: he’s on his way to becoming the next meme. Cries of “ice cold water!” could very well replace “Marco!” or “Buttscratcha!” at future conventions. Heated, misspelled forum and Twitter debates will form over the exact words in the chant and to what melody it was set. And finally, Otakon enjoys a new stake of popularity that is NOT a fire alarm.

Meet Rachel, an attendee from Allentown, Pennsylvania. She has the distinction of purchasing the very last ice cold water from Josh and Candice. She laughed and admitted no real reaction when informed that she helped close the chapter of the net’s latest celebrity.

As for Josh and Candice? The batteries were removed from the bullhorn, the cooler’s lid was shut, and off they walked, presumably to watch “Mighty Morphin’ Power Rangers.”

(Very special thanks to Lauren Orsini, who helped me out immensely with this post; do yourself a favor and check out her site, for her writing pwns all that is pwnable)

I Went to the Con and All I Got Were These STDs

Contracting an illness at a convention is unfortunately all too possible. Gather hundreds, or even thousands, of people together in one area and germs are certain to be spread; the chance of getting sick multiplies on multi-day events. The fact that many fan conventions can attract those folks who don’t go out into public much, thus ensuring a weakened immune system, also increases the possibility of post-con sickness.

In years past, my DVDs, posters, books, and infinite supply of business cards, fliers, and pins haven’t been the only things that followed me home from a convention. The common cold, fever, and even a case of the flu itself have all, at one point or another, tacked an unpleasant postscript to my most recent convention experience. I’d be lying if I said my recent attendance at downtown Philadelphia’s Wizard World East 2011 was any different.

While there, I got gonorrhea on Friday. As if that wasn’t bad enough, on Sunday, I found myself with herpes.

Seriously.

Now, if you’re wondering why I’m writing about this instead of fleeing to the nearest physician or, at the very least, weeping alone in a corner, scratching my private region profusely (which is how I wake up every morning), allow me to explain. The diseases did not come to me by way of an unclean furry or fangirl. First of all, no such specimens really captured my eye that weekend. Secondly, the strains of herpes and gonorrhea I acquired weren’t of the infectious variety, but rather of the plushie variety.

Welcome to a rather prominent booth located toward the main floor’s front doors!

A temporary brick-and-mortar version of Drew Oliver’s “Giant Microbes” website, the Giant Microbes display featured those microbes making up common sexually-transmitted diseases. Each respective creature is a felt-and-stuffing version of its molecular counterpart, magnified one million times. Cards detailing which disease is represented, as well as fun trivia about said disease, are affixed to the plushies.

Needless to say, I *had* to have one.

Upon my first sighting of the booth on Friday, I found it extremely difficult to select just one. I realize STDs and VDs are indeed serious medical conditions, but come on. I’m a 30-year-old guy who is a fan of everything from Tucker Max to “Beavis and Butt-head”; of COURSE I’m going to find such conditions nothing short of hilarious. But which to choose?! My plushie collection (which, at the time, was severely lacking in the Giant Microbes department) could have a cute little Chlamydia added to it. How adorable would my stuffed Domo-kun or Tribble look with a giant HIV cell on their lap? On lonely nights, I could snuggle under my covers, gripping the warmth of a syphilis cell magnified a million times as I fall asleep.

I have issues.

I ultimately settled on:

Yup, Gonorrhea, better known as “The Clap.” Fun fact from my new little plushie pal’s attached card: the term “clap” originates from the French word “clapier,” which translates to “brothel.” Seems like a fitting nickname to me. Since I possess the maturity of a 12-year-old, I of course went around to my various friends, touching them with my $9 purchase, and boasting “I just gave you gonorrhea!” When I wasn’t rubbing it on them, I was proclaiming…a little too proudly…that I was a “carrier of gonorrhea.” The possibility for jokes, and even double-entendre-filled dialogue, is endless:

PERSON A: “Look! I got gonorrhea!”
PERSON B: “Well, what did you expect for nine bucks?”

Fast forward to Sunday of the convention. I had spent the past day and a half making purchases that did NOT resemble magnified STD cells/molecules (although if I saw something ion my molecular structure shaped like the inflatable d20 I purchased (at the price of $1 per side), I’d go to a doctor). My rounds brought me back to the Giant Microbes booth, where I once again found myself desperate to part with the better part of ten dollars. Keep in mind that, when some urine-soaked, scraggly bum approaches me in a train station, using what’s left of his voice to beg me for spare change, I tell him that I am just as broke as he is. I have priorities.

I asked the booth manager which diseases have been top sellers.

“Chlamydia, herpes, and kissing disease (infectious mononucleosis),” he replied. “I used to sell a lot of sperm and HIV.”

“Yeah, I already have gonorrhea.”

Chalk that one up to “Discussions I never imagined I would have with someone.”

After some difficult decision-making, I decided that the addition of herpes to my gonorrhea would be appropriate. The salesman agreed, primarily because it meant he could pocket an additional nine bucks.

So there you have it. I left Wizard World East 2011 with gonorrhea and herpes. I plan to keep them forever (in the latter’s case, I understand such a feeling is mutual).

If you want your own disease plushies, I strongly suggest checking out Giant Microbes’ site at giantmicrobes.com. You’ll notice that the site offers a plethora of different diseases and germs for sale, not just those contracted by people who only wanted to undergo a little sexual exploration. They’d make great gifts for that friend or family member in the medical field who already seems to have everything (especially if they’re a proctologist). I imagine that, in some deeply twisted context, such items could even be educational.

Besides, how cool would it be to say that your local mail carrier gave you syphilis?