The day of the show was cold and the sky leaden and heavy with rain. The top of the Stratosphere's tower was lost in the clouds (at left in the photo below) and for a moment I thought I'd awoken back home across the pond in England. Nothing like cold drizzle to yank a Brit back to his roots!
I headed downtown around 9:00
am in search of coffee. I was staying at the Hilton at the
convention center, about 4 miles south of the Plaza. The former hotel is famous for
"The Star Trek Experience", an interactive ride lasting 18 minutes during which
one is assimilated by the Borg. While I didn't make it to the show, I was rudely
insulted by a Klingon while trying to order dinner. Although his costume was
convincing, he was so thin that even a semi-tame targ (a Klingon pet something
like a horned pit-bull) could have flattened him, plus he spoke with a
Minnesotan accent that would have made him more at home on the stage of Prairie
Home Companion.
The Hilton has nothing approaching what might pass
for coffee (I'd purchased and tossed
the best they had to offer) so first order of business was to raise my serum caffeine
levels above that required to hunt down the rare label-unders and CA picture
glasses that I knew had to be on offer when the show opened. Fortunately Fremont
St. (right) is home to a Starbucks so I offered a prayer of thanks and
got in line. Before I could place my order, however, I was approached by someone
demanding to know my name. Somewhat taken aback, I managed to respond, only to
discover that I'd been accosted by Ed Sipos. Ed is better known to eBayers as azsaloon. He and his
wife Alice were also in town for the show and we agreed to meet up later for
dinner.
I took my coffee and headed over to the Plaza to check out the show location. It was due to open to early-bird buyers at noon and while now only 10 am, I wanted to make sure that I knew where to go when the doors opened and the stampede began.
Apparently this is the first time it's ever rained in Vegas because the hotel had water cascading in from numerous points in the ceiling. Trashcans had been placed strategically throughout the hallways to catch the more substantial streams, but the floors were soaked. Although I never actually saw anyone with a raised umbrella in the hallway, it would not have been inappropriate given the amount of water coming in.
Ed and Alice were already outside the show entrance, chatting with friends. I was surprised to see that dealer set-up was well under way, because I thought that started at noon also. Guards at the door were making sure that no-one other than dealers gained entry, but I pulled out my digital camera and begged to speak to the President of the Las Vegas Bottle Club. I explained about our website and begged permission to wander round to take some photos of the dealer's displays before the aisles became clogged and the tables had been picked over by collectors. The President graciously agreed to my request and an impromptu badge was arranged to make me legal. I did promise to refrain from any wheeling and dealing until the show opened officially, but no matter, I was in!
I
looked over my shoulder, grinned at Ed, and went off in search of glass.
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