PAX Booth Babes

While recently at PAX East, and due entirely to the bizarre and wonderful nature of the Penny Arcade Expo, I found myself suddenly talking to two random strangers about the topic of Booth Babes while I was on duty as an Enforcer, watching the entrance of the Console Tournament room. The discussion was more profound than it probably should have been, considering its brevity and setting, not to mention the parties involved. However, it gave me the opportunity to actually talk about, and therefore properly define my opinion of what is really an interesting topic that draws on too many ideas to be simple in any way. It's also damn tough to talk about; that kind of topic where if you express your opinion in just the wrong way, you can easily be sworn off as a sexist, misogynist, or, of course, the "Reverse the polarity!" opposite, a feminist or crying heart liberal. I hope I can get across my thoughts on the topic without accidentally transforming into any of the aforementioned stereotypes.

The first thing that needs to be said is that this can't be a discussion about whether or not Booth Babes should exist in the first place. That's a discussion about the objectification of women, about capitalism, about women's rights, equality, and the truism that Sex Sells--an entirely different discussion that I don't want to get into here. This specific set of words, arranged into what I could argue is cohesive thought, has to be about Booth Babes at PAX.

The Penny Arcade Expo is a big party. It's a place where seventy thousand geeks, nerds, and gamers of every kind can get together in the same space and feel at home. It's a place where you can walk up to just about anyone and know with certainty that this random stranger is probably going to be a helluva lot like you. I read a great quote when I was preparing to go to PAX Prime 2010: "If you're in a line up, you turn to the guy next to you to start up a conversation, and he doesn't respond or tries to ignore you, he's doing it wrong." Another invaluable quote: "PAX is seventy thousand friends you didn't know you had."

Now, as an exaggerative example, I'm going to paint a picture. Imagine you just bought a brand new, fifty-two inch TV. You have it hooked up to it the newest gaming console out there, with the flashiest, ground-breaking game on the market. You call up all your friends and invite them over. "Dude! You've gotta come see my new setup. It's awesome, man. I've got pizza, you bring the beer." All your friends arrive, settle in the living room with their freshly cracked-open beer cans, their greasy slices of pizza, and can't wait to see the new, awesome game on your brand new TV. But then they notice a hot blonde wearing a bikini standing next to your TV, doing the 'look at this' pose. She's just some totally random stranger standing there half-naked--not a friend of the group playing a prank or part of a joke. An unresponsive woman whose enthusiasm is visibly fabricated and insincere. Yes, it's cool that there's a hot girl standing there, but at the same time it would be very weird. Too odd to be anything but uncomfortable and awkward.

More importantly, it would be awkward for a very specific set of reasons. When you have friends over to your house to hang out, you can get away with things you simply wouldn't be able to otherwise. You can crack dirty jokes, burp loudly, fart and be gross, and enjoy a myriad of inside jokes and references. Everyone else there knows the same jokes, isn't offended at your laid back, 'I'm with family,' nature because they're glad they can do the same. There's no outside influence or obstruction. Your house, with your brand new fifty-two inch TV, is a place of sanctuary, safe from the tropes of public life.

The Penny Arcade Expo is exactly the same, and that's why I love it to death. I've proven it to myself time and time again, both for the sake of it, and because in doing so, the result is fantastic: I've struck up conversation with the guy next to me in line, I've joked with other Enforcers as if they all ready understood my sense of humor, and I've approached total strangers and asked if I could join them for a game without being turned down, or invited people I've never met to join me.

Booth Babes don't belong. They're outsiders. They're everything about public life that you don't want in your living room when you're hanging out with friends.

What they represent, more than just a bit of unabashed, sexist capitalism, is the segregation of a populace according to a caste system. What makes PAX so immeasurably fantastic is that everyone is equal. I can't tell you how cool it feels to see Robert Khoo, the main man, the top dog, the guy responsible for the entire event, come into the dirty, over-used, public bathroom with the rest of the 'peasants.' I remember at PAX Prime, walking past Wil Wheaton, who was just chillin' near one of the Rock Band freeplay areas, talking to a few Enforcers, under no threat of a mob of fans rushing him, screaming like raving, thirteen-year-old girls, demanding he sign their memorabilia. The true celebrities received no special attention or treatment.

There was an unspoken, mutual respect. The VIPs didn't treat us like a throng of rabid fans, and we didn't treat the VIPs like they were any different or special than us. The same can be said of the Enforcers, who I can now proudly say I'm part of. Enforcers are respected because they have volunteered their time--they want to be there, doing the tedious, frustrating, arduous tasks like checking badges at doors or managing lineups. Inversely, we Enforcers care about doing a good job. We want to see the event run as smoothly as possible. It is out pleasure to help the lost attendant find the theatre room he just can't seem to locate.

And then... Booth Babes. Attractive women paid to stand next to exhibits. They might care about them, they might not. The issue is that they've been paid to be there. Suddenly the caste system sneaks its way back in. "What's the etiquette for approaching a Booth Babe? Should I ask her any questions? She probably wouldn't know anything, she's being paid to be here. In fact, I'm sure she's been hit on and flirted with by so many bumbling, socially inept nerds today that she just can't wait to go home. I'd better leave her alone." They stop being people and instead become the exhibit. In a truly unfortunate way they descend a rung lower on the social ladder, becoming subservient.

What I fear is that it could become a dangerous trend. Things which are, eventually get taken for granted. If you are accustomed to there being a sub-class of person whose function is to serve you, then you might begin to assume that you fit into an order of ascending social importance where you obviously aren't at the top. If booth babes are below you, then speakers and exhibitors must be above, with organizers and VIPS above them. As it stands there is no caste system at PAX. Everyone is equal. You don't listen to an Enforcer because he is higher than you in the system, but because you both recognize that order is needed to keep the seventy-thousand person event from falling into anarchy and chaos. You can walk right up to the VIP, shake his hand, and talk to him like you would anyone else.

Considering their cost, do Booth Babes even add anything? Are they in any way, shape, or form, important or integral to PAX as an event or experience? If you were to remove the ceaselessly smiling, scantily clad, disinterested women, whose only function is to look good, from the show floor of the exhibition hall, would anyone notice? Can any self-respecting gaming-geek tell me, honestly, that if the Booth Babes weren't there, you wouldn't go to the Expo Hall? We go to see the games, to support the indie developers, to check out the latest and greatest technology, and to be giddy and excited with our friends about the new Duke Nukem game, as if we were 11 years old all over again. It's about the games!

Finally, the obvious: if even one girl gamer finds the Booth Babes offensive, the verdict is out. The case is closed. Ban them. Throw them out. Get rid of them. The thousands of awesome girl gamers at PAX are part of that group of seventy thousand friends you didn't know you had. They're the friends you'd call up and invite over to your house to check out your new fifty-two inch screen, eat pizza and drink beer with, who would get the inside jokes, and feel just as weird about this random stranger standing there half-naked. For no other reason than to honor our double-X chromosome comrades we should oust the Booth Babes.