Back in February, the CEO of Comikaze, a Los Angeles-based comic book convention I had never heard of, offered me a free table and publicity on their website in exchange for appearing at their show in September. I accepted the offer and dutifully submitted the requested photo, bio, and completed form.
A month later, I met the CEO, Regina Carpinelli, at WonderCon. At my age, pretty much everyone I meet reminds me of someone I've already met, and Regina reminded me of any number of smooth talkers who turn out to be full of baloney.
Months pass, Comikaze is rebranded as "Stan Lee's Comikaze," and I hear nothing back from Regina or anyone associated with the convention. My photo and bio do not appear on their website and I am not listed a guest, special or otherwise. My emails and phone calls to Regina and to "Teddy," the director of sales, go unreturned.
My friend Dylan Edwards ("Transposes"), who managed to secure a table in Artists' Alley but only received the promised show package a few days before the show and only after making repeated requests, suggested I contact "Corey," the director of operations. After several days Corey Silverstein responded as follows:
"At this point Artists' Alley is completely full and we cannot offer you a table... However we would happy to offer you a complimentary pass so that you can enjoy the show."
So instead of the promised free table and publicity, I have the opportunity to... attend the show! Fuck you very much, Comikaze. I think I'll pass.
See you all in New York, where they know how to run a convention.
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