Late morning Sunday, J. headed out to haul our luggage and superfluous merch from the hotel room to the car so we could check out & breaking down later would be less of a nightmare. Unfortunately, unlike previous years, we were in one of the busier towers that had elevator issues, so getting both up to the room and back down was an exercise in patience, then muttering, then cursing and sacrificing chickens to dark gods. Meanwhile, I was manning the table with awesome henches, trying to stay awake, and occasionally getting bursts of updates from J. via text message. Like so:
J: Nathaniel will be incoming to table soon.
J: I will die of age before the elevator arrives. The sun will go out. The universe will suffer heat death. And yet my body will be waiting on the 18th floor.
J: Tell Trunks I loved her. I am ne'er to see the sun again. Woe!
Me: Hee hee hee. Love you!
J: Just doing 2nd run now. This is madness!
Me: THIS! IS! A-KONNNNNNNNNN!
Me: Faster than the elevator.