DOING THE WORK
Harris O'Malley

February 8, 2004

A Head Full of Mad, A Fist Full of Vertebrae

I am a patient man. I’m a man with a very even-keeled temper. Mellow, even. Full of bon homme and love of my fellow human beings. I would go so far to say that I go through life with an almost Zen-like calm, serene as a Shaolin master in between the moments when renegade students break into the temple and try to take revenge on me for throwing their no-talent-having asses out into the cold.

This of course is why I’m about five seconds away from getting ripped to the tits, driving to Atlanta and clubbing people like baby seals.

And why is this? What happened to this Zen Master, this bodhisatva of the comic scene to make him pick up his pet sledgehammer Lucille and go to town on those innocent people?

Con season, that’s what happened.

There are certain truths that all small-press publishers must know. First, you must go to cons. The second is that there are certain forces in this universe that will do their best to keep you from getting to these conventions. The third is Vertical, Vertical Vertical, but that’s for another column at another time.

Some context:

In two weeks, I’ll be kicking con-season off with the Alternate Press Expo in San Francisco. After my freshman year as a creator on the con circuit, one would think that I had smoothed out the various wrinkles in attending conventions and can sail through these troubled waters of lousy metaphor with a firm hand and steady course, confident in my experiences to get through unscathed.

BWA-HA-HA-HAHAH! Hooo…. That was funny. I needed that, thanks.

The season doesn’t really kick off officially until you think you have everything finished and set. Y’see, that’s when you’re at your most vulnerable. That’s when your guard is down. And that’s when real life likes to throw a nut-shot.

In my case, the nut-shot manifested itself in the form of the airline industry, an industry with the morals of a smack-addicted weasel. Thanks to rampant credit card abuse and a childish naiveté regarding such things, I have wound up with more frequent flyer miles than God. I had hoped to use them to help defray the cost of my trip. I hadn’t quite counted on having to throw down with one of the larger corporations in the free world.

Because the bastards stole my frequent flyer miles.

This, of course, could not be. Just because I left my miles to ferment like a fine wine gave them no right to steal my hard-earned travels from me. A quick call to the main line and the battle had begun.

The smarmy Customer-Service-Bot at the other end of the reservation line tried to maintain that my mileage had expired since it had been over three years since I'd flown on this particular airline’s flights (and for good reason, I might add...). Nothing to be done about it, so very sorry, and please be sure to consider them for all my travel needs.

When the red haze had started receding from my vision and I was beginning to run out of ways to swear at them in English and was switching to other languages to insult their parentage, I realized that his corporate masters had made a critical error and let slip some vital information while they had put me on hold.

"Hold up... the hold message mentioned that there're other airlines in your consortium?"
"Yes sir."
"And flights on those count towards your mileage points?"

(I could hear the dread in his voice as he racks his brain trying to figure out what angle I'm about to work, which loop-hole I'm about to slide through...)

"Um... yes..."
"And $NAME is one of those airlines?"
"Yes..."
"HA HA, YOU FOOL! I flew on $NAME in September and never got my mileage.”

You could almost hear the relief coming in waves from the other end of the phone. Ah, just another rookie, they thought. Another lamb to the slaughter.

“Well sir, you would have to provide us with copies of the boarding passes in order to get the miles credited to your account. And since you wouldn’t have those…”

“Guess what? I’m self-employed. Which means I keep EVERYTHING! I'VE STILL GOT THE BOARDING PASSES! Hit me with the fax number, man-bitch, and make it snappy.”

Now by all rights, it should have ended there, and I go off to to APE with all the confidence in the world. Not so. No, corporations are trisksy hobbittses. We haaaatess them, yesss my precioussss.

Y’see, they thought they could still win. That they could slide by on loophole.

Guess what folks? I WROTE THE BOOK ON LOOPHOLES.

I'll admit, they caught me a good one. Sucker punch from the side... since I hit them with one earlier, it made us square. But just because you got a lucky punch in doesn't mean the fight's over. I didn’t get the miles credited to my account; they had decided that instead of the boarding passes, I needed to send in the agent’s receipt for the trip instead. And I admit, this might have stopped most people; someone who wouldn’t know where to begin, since the airlines don’t routinely provide this for e-tickets.

Someone who didn’t have family working at the agency that booked the trip for him.

And so in the eleventh hour, I’ve had my account credited and the tickets booked and confirmed.

One more headache taken care of.

Now all that’s left is finishing up a cover, correcting panels to my new mini-comic, getting it printed and saddle-stitched, boxing up and shipping all my stuff ahead of me, boxing up new comics for the distributors, finishing paintings for an upcoming show, getting as far as possible in my newest graphic novel, getting ahead in my column for PopImage, preparing for the panel. Oh and finishing up my taxes and fixing the ceiling that is busily falling in bits as I write this.

Not much really. What could possibly go wrong?

Oh, and to the Customer-Service-Bot? Trying to pass off petty retribution as a bureaucratic error by switching my final return city to San Diego from San Antonio? That was just beyond contempt, especially since you seemed to think I wouldn’t notice such a cheap and unworthy stunt.

My kung-fu is unbeatable. Now stay down and I won’t have to keep hitting you. Bitch.

Assuming nothing else goes horribly wrong, I’ll be attending the Alternate Press Expo on the 21st and the 22nd of this month in San Francisco. I’ll be selling copies of my OGN Between The Cracks: All Miracles Have A Price, my one-shot Between The Cracks: The Bride and my new mini-comic The Secret Life of Angels as well as t-shirts. I’ll also have a sneak preview of my next project, Berserker with writer Jens Altman available, and I’ll be appearing on the self-publishing panel. Come stop by to say hello and watch me make a total ass of myself.

 

Harris O'Malley is a writer/artist/publisher of BETWEEN THE CRACKS. He lives in Texas.


PopImage Forum - Discuss this message at the PopImage forum.


Industrial Archive - Read past Industrial articles