The first thing I read about PAX was to plan for lines.  An endless thread about expecting lines and dealing with lines and the silver linings to lines, ad nauseam.  Seriously, I think I got a cavity while reading about how great it is to meet people in lines.  I half expected there to be a local bar called Lines just so the circle was complete.  Turns out there’s a place called Shorty’s that pretty much fills that slot; I still get the trademark on Lines(TM).  Maybe Gabe will draw me a logo?  But, I digress.

Yeah, there were lines.  I wasn’t surprised by that.  However, the clever use of lines was impressive.  At times, I found myself looking at the lines instead of the booths themselves.  Especially on the main expo floor where a certain threshold of lineage was expected.  The simplest, most economical pattern is a booth that runs their line parallel to a long row of people playing a game.  So you just watch people play until your turn appears.  It’s a wonderful marketing setup that I think Tycho is referencing here.  Perfect for a game with compelling properties.

Some booths are less generous with their digital candy.  Instead of a tantalizing show to get you excited, they devote their energy to creating mystery.  There’s usually a room or structure blocking immediate access to the demo.  And then, to maintain the illusion of  immediacy, the line wraps around the structure, never quite exposing its true length.  Like a coiled rattlesnake.  The line prozac for this is generally something to lean against and a battery-powered device.  (Yeah, baby.)  However I discovered a wonderful little group of optimists that decided to celebrate everyone who left the exit with a cheer tunnel.  It was so heart-warmingly genuine, I grabbed a bit for instagram.

http://instagram.com/p/sYFBUwy4uz/

Mostly the lines were pretty professionally managed.  Especially anything laid out by Enforcers.  The half-moon “wrestling” match line was overdone, but almost everything else in the main halls was easily handled by professional line-waiters.  Understandably, people with the intention of winning prizes at the end of line rainbows usually have a planned survival tactic.  Groups entertain each other either with jokes or games.  Individuals usually have headphones and/or a handheld device.  Advanced class line-waiters sometimes use a tag-team approach involving a nomadic hunter-gatherer lifestyle.  And then there’s just good old fashioned patience.  Though I can’t often distinguish that from resigned boredom.

As a child, I recall my grandfather giving me line lessons during our annual Opryland visit.  He adamantly insisted that you never stand closer than 3-4 feet to the person in front of you.  He also encouraged us to stretch every 10 minutes so our “bones don’t get lazy.”  But perhaps most importantly, he insisted that if you pass wind, you apologize for it.  I know that sounds a little strange, but his logic is sound – it happens to everyone, so at least be polite.  I glanced at the post-PAX forums and apparently methane leaks were a widespread problem.  I’m interested to see if there’s an addendum to the line thread next year about fartiquette or perhaps some PAX-brand simethicone in the swag bags?

I’d say the vast majority of people I witnessed survived queues with handheld game systems.  They effectively stymie the discomfort of public interaction and allow people to escape into fantasy worlds for hours at a time.  While this clearly contributes to the mass dissociative disorder of humanity it also keeps hundreds of people placidly occupied in otherwise aggravating scenarios.  And anything that keeps obnoxious kids quiet must be a good thing, right?

My favorite line of the event was on Friday afternoon.  I wandered over to the Paramount Theater because I heard there was stuff there.  There was indeed a bag of stuff.  Huzzah.  There was also a stage area set aside for autographs.  I glanced up and saw Gabe & Tycho sitting at a eye level with an array of black markers.  My inner fangirl wanted to approach the bench and be judged, but I also said I wasn’t going to bother with lines at my first PAX.  The line didn’t look very long, but the kids sitting on the floor with their handhelds seemed to be settled in for a long wait.  I decided it was worth the wait.  I wandered into a lane and got settled.  After about 5 minutes, someone asked me if I was in line for Captain Sparklez.  I stared blankly, so the person ahead of me confirmed their suspicion.

Dumbfounded, I promptly left that line and took a step back to evaluate the waiting area.  That’s when I realized there were two tables at the front of two lines.  The other line, leading to the figurative hosts of the expo, was empty.  Gabe and Tycho were just twiddling their thumbs under a subdued spotlight while dozens of young people waited to see an “actual celebrity” – CaptainSparklez.  This struck me as the funniest thing possible at that moment.  It was also serendipitous as I was able to simply walk up and tell the guys “you’re great”.  Of course, after I read this strip I feel like I missed out on a more personalized experience.  Then again, being memorable is overrated.

My conclusion is that line-waiting at the Penny Arcade Expo is a necessary evil.  But as non-permanent queue organization goes, it’s very well managed.  I chose to avoid as much line-waiting as possible so I could try to touch on every aspect of the event.  I had a great time during my fun-filled days and proved that you can enjoy PAX with almost no waiting.  But I don’t collect pins or follow newly released games or put any value on playing a game before other people can.  So I might be in the minority of attendees.  Regardless, the few lines I waited in were more than worth it and I’m sure all those X-Box and PS4 games will be great when I buy them used in about 4-5 years.