Now we were at San Diego Comic-Con, only it was taking place in a big shopping mall. I was apparently planning to publish an independent graphic novel using Cameron Chase, a character I created for DC Comics back in '96; I was going to simply refer to her without using her name to try to dodge around trademark. C. and I mostly just wandered the halls of the mall. I don't remember much of what we saw except that, toward the end, we entered a kind of cafeteria to get some food. "Is this what I want?" I asked; C. said, "We just need to get through the last day."
As we made our way to the back of the line, we passed a tall, thin woman who was quietly repeating, to anyone who would listen to her: "Clown. Help. Clown. Help. Clown. Help." I wasn't sure if she needed a clown, or if she needed help against a clown. Either way, I wasn't the right person for the job.