I just wanted to get paid for a job, I didn’t want to suffer during work. I thought this might be a quick, easy job to get out of the way. I’m here, sitting in my booth, waiting for the day to start. But little did I know… ugh… furry conventions and anime conventions were the worst, horrendous places to work at.

 First person, that’s right, the very first person I handed a pin of registration to explicitly said to me in a fursuit, “UwU (I have no idea what that even means, is that furry morse code for something really bad?),  looks like you appwoves of me now, I can wule the wowld with this wittle pin.” Right then and there, I should’ve seen that smug, red flag. Then they continued their merry way and hopped into the convention center.

 I looked back and saw a small line gathering in front of me. The worst part about this place is that they just. Kept. Multiplying. More and more people showed up dressed in fursuits and cosplay like a swarm of mosquitoes. As it got busier and busier, things got weirder and weirder. One even had the audacity to ask if they could sit in my lap (I’m not sure if that counted as assault!)!

 Once it hit my lunch break, I rushed to an open table, begging to be left unbothered. Alas, a group of people saw me, with these big puppy faces smiling at me. I sobbed while sipping my Sierra Mist, as a group of fursuited monsters cuddled closer and closer towards me… I don’t get paid enough for this…