Excuse me, pardon me

Today is the first weekday sellout in the 38-year history of Comic-Con, and you can feel it on the showroom floor. You can't get through the center aisle without getting jostled, bumped and delayed. A lot of the fans are slow-walking gawkers (there's plenty to stare at with huge statues, countless video screens, scantily clad warriors and princesses and the occasional movie star), and many are carrying big bags full of books, toys and studio giveaways.

I've been poked by light sabers and scraped by a shield, and Yoda stepped on my foot. I feel worse for the poor souls who line up for hours in the hot sun to land a seat in Hall H to see Hollywood's next big thing. A lot don't get in. There were some terribly downcast Vulcans yesterday who broiled outside but didn't get to see Leonard Nimoy. Live long and prosper? More like wait long and perspire.

-- Geoff Boucher

(photo by Spencer Weiner / Los Angeles Times)