Last Night and This Morning

This morning, it's so fucking beautiful out. The sun is out. The sky is blue. The dog is ready for any adventure that doesn't require the car the Butcher is taking to work. And I, dear reader, at eight in the morning am still in my pajamas. That's right. I'm taking the day off work. Go ahead and groan jealously now. Okay, then, onto last night, which, as you'll recall, was Mr. Roboto's little get-together down at the Flying Saucer. I was a little nervous, because they've all gotten together before and I've only met a couple of them and, as you know, I'm mostly a hermit. So, the more socially gregarious one of the household (no, not Mrs. Wigglebottom, though she would have probably died of happiness to have so many people to jump on and entice into rubbing her belly) escorted me. Of course, none of you give a shit about that. You're either wondering "what were they like?" or "is she going to say anything upsetting about me?" Well, read on and I'll tell you. First of all, everyone was so nice and friendly and talkative. But here's what I thought of the folks I met for the first time and actually talked to. Mr. Roboto is amazingly nice. He greeted us when we first came in and made sure we at least had an idea of who everyone else was. Then, for the rest of the evening, he floated around checking in on everyone. I'm still in awe of how comfortable and competent he was and how he seemed to put everyone so at ease. I was only star-struck once and that's when I met Sharon Cobb and I was a little embarrassed by it, because I didn't expect it. But we were introduced and I just stood there silently because I had so many things to say to her they couldn't all come out. Usually, in any non-university gathering in Nashville, I am by far the most liberal person in the room. But if Sharon is there, you know there's someone to the left of me. Brittney was there, but since I already knew her, I had no first impression of her. She remains kick-ass. As were Chris Wage and Blake, who I'd also met before. I had a couple of really awesome long talks with Katherine Coble, about both the Church and knitting. Katherine is the kind of person that you meet and sense immediately that you could entrust her with any precious thing and she would protect it for you. She just comes across as someone deeply and thoughtfully compassionate. Claire Suddath from the Scene was there and she was nice and funny and at one point I looked at her and realized, "Shit, in ten years, women are going to be sitting around watching Nashville at Night on HBO the way we watched Sex and the City and Claire's character will have a whole show devoted to the night she went to hang out with the bloggers. I've been talking to her now for ten minutes. She's taking mental notes. Fuck me. I so do not want to see that episode." Roger Abramson was the other Scene person there and though Sarcastro encouraged me to hit him with a pool cue--since I was still a little sore over the whole "overwrought" thing--I did not. Which was good, because Abramson looks like the kind of guy who would be surprisingly nimble and well-trained in the martial arts. He was wearing a suit and looking all subdued and conservative, but it's exactly those guys who seem to be precisely put together who you have to watch out for. Apparently, to work at the Scene, you have to seem like a character from TV or the movies. Abramson has a hint of the James Bond about him. Short and Fat had to be the surprise of the evening because he was not at all fat. Or old. I had this mental image of him as a tiny, obese Gerald McRaney from Major Dad. But straight ladies and gay gentlemen, he's more Major Nelson than Major Dad. He was delightful good-looking and charming. He looks exactly like the kind of dude that should put on a blue flight suit, shoot into space, come back down and land on some desert island where he discovers a bottle filled with a beautiful blonde who spends the rest of his life granting him wishes. And last, but not least, of the new folks I met and ended up talking to for a long time, is Sarcastro. I don't know exactly what I was expecting, but he was both exactly what I thought he'd be like and not at all. He has dimples and a kind of cocky way about him and I kept having to check and make sure I wasn't touching myself while I talked to him. Towards the end of the evening, he was surrounded by the three hottest girls in the room and I knew, out of all of us there that evening, he'd be the one most likely to get three people to come home with him. So, the evening was good fun for me, though, not as much fun as it was for the Butcher, who seemed to be hitting an all the young, bored hot girls. And, hey, if one of you has a car and some money, we're happy to move in with you. Err, I mean, he's happy to move in with you...