Imagine the hallway in your high school. Now imagine each Trapper Keeper-toting, horn-rimmed-glasses-wearing geek who was either barreling into you with un-nerd-like athleticism on the way to bio lab or blocking your way with his Cheetos physique. Imagine that frustration. Now multiply it by 5,000 and youve just arrived at Florida Supercon, an annual comics convention spontaneously combusting at the Doubletree Miami Mart Airport Convention Center.
Every comics expo has its own vibe. Those in New York are like Dick Grayson traditional and purist. San Diegos are like Jason Todd flashy, annoying, and evil. Chicagos are like Tim Drake cool, collected, and cold. Florida Supercon is like the brand-new Robin Damian, Batmans evil son, the new kid on the block whod rather throw a bunch of crap (anime and videogames) at you than actually save you (from the comics abyss that is South Florida).
But no matter the city, some comics convention rules are universal: If you are a girl, expect to be ogled and downright eye-raped. The place will smell. There will be long lines for everything. You will be the prettiest person in the room.
Fri., June 5, 3:30 p.m.-2 a.m.; Sat., June 6, 11-3 a.m.; Sun., June 7, 11 a.m.-6 p.m., 2009