SOC #10: In the Rainbow Part 2

On the showroom floor I couldn't look at something, or someone in cosplay too long with being entrenched in it's hypnotic, magnetic world of their own mind. The creatures, statues, posters, and toys came to life. I said to my friend, "Look, over there, Alien is about to eat that woman. And she's smiling." My friend said, "It's just a statue, man. It's standing still. It's just the LSD and shrooms distorting your view." I asked, "How can you put up with this shit?" He replied, "I know what to expect. Oooh, she's hot. What character is she suppose to be? Look at those tits." I shushed him, then said, "Not too loud, they may not like such compliments. Respect these whores." A twenty something girl squealed, "Excuse me? Who are you calling a whore?" Oh, shit, I thought. "Not you," I said. And as she was about to say something else, my friend and I moved out of that scene. I bumped into The Incredible Hulk - that massive green, mean machine. He said, "Hey, watch it." I apologized. He then stomped along. I turned to see if my friend noticed, but he stood staring at a glass case with small toys of half-naked women at a Manga area. I walked up behind him. I said, "That was close. They almost had us. I thought I was done for when the Hulk stared angrily down at me with those spiteful eyes. How did that kid make himself so tall?" My friend said, "If only real women looked this good." I said, "Those artistic nerds always over-exaggerate what a good-looking woman should look like. They're more like jocks than people like to admit." My friend was transfixed on the toys, studying each detail, every curve of booty and booby. I finally said, "Come on before they think we're creepy pervs." We continued walking throughout the showroom floor. Predator was walking around, and as he passed me, I said to him, "Your target is just a few booths over in that direction. He's eating an innocent woman." Predator said, "Okay." My friend said, "Maybe we shouldn't be talking to random people." I admitted, "I thought it was a statue again. You're right, no talking. Just observe." We came to an area with a lot more outside light shining from big windows where there were smaller booths. I saw two old ladies, behind them was a poster for the first Evil Dead film, and a sign that said, "The Actress's of The Evil Dead." I said to my friend, "Lets go have a cigarette." Near the entrance to go outside, Erik Estrada was taking pictures with young woman. I said, "Hey, it's Ponch." My friend said under his breath, "Fake Mexican." I asked him, "Why do you say that about every Mexican-American?" My friend said, "Never mind, you don't understand." Smoking a cigarette outside in the hot sun, we noticed, guys dressed as The Fellowship of the Ring smoking from a glass marijuana pipe. My friend asked, "Wanna go smoke with 'em?" I said, "I don't trust the Dwarf. He looks like he want's to punch me in the nuts." My friend giggled. He said, "This place is nice." I said, "Let's check into the Hotel now, I don't like this shit anymore. I want to sober up before tomorrow." My friend said, "You won't for about another six to eight hours." I said, slapping a hand on my forehead, "Fuck, I forgot! Shit." We went back to the parking garage. After about 20 minutes trying to find the car, I said, "Dude, where's my car?" Yes, I actually asked that question. "Where's my black Nissan-" Then, in unison, it occurred to both of us we had the Gold Lion. We laughed for a good few minutes. Then when we realized we were standing right next to it, still laughed as we got in the car. Both of us were exhausted by the time my friend started the car. It was at this time the LSD-shrooms took their total grip on our senses. Checking into the Hotel was no trouble. My instructions: say your name, then give I.D.; when she asks, give credit card for her to swipe in the system; say, 'Thank you.' Fuck I think I smiled too much, because she chuckled. Room 337 was our room. Waiting for the elevator doors to open, I said to my friend, "Soon as we get to the room, I'm writing." My friend patted me on the back, "Good, man, that's good. I can't wait to read it." The elevator doors slid open. We entered. Two other people entered behind us I paid no attention to. I said, "I'm gonna write until my hand hurts. That's what I did when I wrote my novel. No hesitation, no inhibitions, and most of all, no doubts." One of the people in the elevator with us inquired, "You're a writer?" It was the voice of a woman. I looked up at her and simply said, "Yes. Got a book that just got accepted for publication." Then I realized who it was - an angelic celeb in my eyes - she had blond hair and a smile that shined in my dilated pupils. For legal reasons I will call her Bee Bee(B. B.). She was a correspondent for a well known website that covered and reported on such events as Comic-con. And by chance, fate, God's Will, whatever, she was not only looking at ME, but talking to ME! She asked, "What's it called?" I swallowed, then told her, trying my best to seem of sound mind. With her was a slut I didn't like who did the same job as her, but had no wit nor any indication of intelligence. Bee Bee said, "That's cool." I said, "We're here to, you know, celebrate." She said, as the elevator doors opened, "Maybe one day you'll be on a panel in an Exhibit Hall." I said, "In a small one most likely." She and that other chick left. The doors slid closed. My friend began to say, "Wasn't that-" I answered, "Yes." My friend continued, "The one you-" I said, "Yessss." I leaned against the elevator's wall and gave him a gleeful smile. I said, "And she just talked to me." The elevator arrived at the eighth floor, and I tried to open room 887 with the key, it didn't work. "Fuck," I uttered, "the key won't work. They don't want us here." I turned to my friend. He said, "Idiot, the room number is 337, not 887. Dope." His eyes then widened, then dropped his suitcase, grabbed my shirt collar, pulled me close to his face, and said, "Do you know what this means?!" I replied, confused, "No." He said, "Bee Bee and that sexy bitch got off on our floor. They're rooms are on OUR floor." I said, "I need to write. Takes away my shyness."