Well, Later that summer, I took her to her first convention ... DragonCon. Yeah, I figured throwing her into the deep end was the best way to get her ready for the convention circuit.
Voltaire is one of her favorite acts. So she was bopping around at his concert then rushed off back to the hotel room in a panic when I was going to introduce her to him. Seems she cracked open one of my bottles of rum and proceeded to get herself blotto from embarressment while I proceeded to do the rest of the typical late night DragonCon debauchery.
Now see, she had been trying to deny the fact that she'd developed curves so late. Thus she had forced herself into a TIGHT top that had a built in A-cup bra. Being drunk, she forgot how to get the top off.
I ran into Voltaire again later that night while he was chatting with the guy who draws Overcast with a Chance of Doom. (- Well, back then he was drawing Writhe and Shine. -) Anyway, while we were chatting, my phone rang and my lil drunken roomie tried to explain her situation.
Being the loving roomie that I am, I hit the speaker button and asked her to repeat herself.
"GODDAMMIT JAK!!! Get up here and take my clothes off!"
I hung up the phone; looked at the lads and shrugged.
" Well, a man has to do what a man has to do. I live such a hard life. "
Fast forward to the end of the con. We run into Voltaire on the way out. I drag her up and introduce her to him. She's hemming and hawing. Complete fangirl implosion in process. Meanwhile I'm standing behind her miming the phone call and pointing to her.
Without skipping a beat, V puts on that leer of his and leans down to her.
"Sweety, the next time you need help getting out of your clothes; call me first."
For the next couple of years, his nickname for her was "Wardrobe Malfunction".
