Friday, September 02, 2005

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...


Anonymous Anonymous said...

Short and Fat is a faud?!?!?!?!?!

Great piece of investigative blogging B. I feel so dissillusioned.


9/02/2005 11:17:00 AM  
Blogger Kat Coble said...

Well, I feel flattered obviously and much enjoyed getting to meet you. I hope we can get together again. You remind me of my sister (and that's a good thing.)

And yes, Short & Fat is a HUGE (or not huge) fraud.

I'm surprised that you were suprised by a slight cockiness from Sarcastro. I mean, anybody whose blog is subtitled "watching the defectives" is obviously quite um, self-assured.

9/02/2005 11:29:00 AM  
Blogger Aunt B said...

True enough, but it was the charming cockiness that got me. I was expecting cocky. I was not expecting charming. I don't know if it's the dimples or what, but until I hear otherwise, I'm going to be convinced he had no problem talking those three girls into going home with him.

9/02/2005 12:01:00 PM  
Blogger Rex L. Camino said...

I am actually a standard poodle with the benefit of an opposable thumb and the ability to navigate the Internet while my human masters are away at work. I wanted to go last night but I feared for the looks of shock and allegations of fraud. The revelations about Short and Fat have only substantiated those fears, but I no longer feel guilty for calling him that (though I still think his parents were just being cruel when they bestowed that name upon him).

9/02/2005 12:01:00 PM  
Anonymous Sarcastro said...

Hate to destroy the illusion, girls. Not only did they (or one)not go home with me, but once home, I couldn't even get the dog to hop in the bed.

Looks like all my charm was used up on you two.

9/02/2005 12:11:00 PM  
Blogger Kat Coble said...

Rex, I think you were just avoiding being unmasked, as you are really a 68 year old Scottish woman who spends her days writing porn while trying to appear merely grandmotherly.

Sar, I seriously think you'd pull if you broke out the clove cigarettes.

9/02/2005 12:28:00 PM  
Blogger Short and Fat said...

Well, maybe I'm not old, per se, but I feel I definitely have an old soul. However, if I'm going to be compared to Larry Hagman, I'd say more J.R. Ewing than Maj. Nelson.

Ahh, Dallas, my life hasn't been the same since Bobby died.

Seriously, it was very cool to meet everyone especially since in person folks aren't as...hmmm...surly as we sometimes appear in print, even with the beer floating around.

9/02/2005 03:58:00 PM  
Blogger TVonthefritz said...

What were your impressions of Fritz Lang? I wanted to come. If I come to the next shendig, will you be attending?

9/02/2005 04:17:00 PM  
Anonymous Sarcastro said...

The only thing that runs the hot girls away faster than clove cigs, is 20-sided dice, Kat.

9/02/2005 05:59:00 PM  
Blogger Kat Coble said...

And that would be why I make for a lousy lesbian.

9/02/2005 06:06:00 PM  
Blogger Aunt B said...

Fritz, pretty much if there's free beer and people invite me, I'll go to anything. (I should note, though, that the beer was only free for me because I made the Butcher pay.)

Well, Sarcastro, waste all your charms on me anytime. I love charming, cantankerous, conservative farts. If not for y'all, who would I fight with?

Rex, if you're really a standard poodle, I hope your owners at least don't make you wear your hair in any ridiculous manner.

9/03/2005 10:40:00 AM  
Anonymous roboto said...

Thanks for the kind words about the party. The local group of folks really is fun, isn't it? I was fairly surprised that we got so many non-bloggers to come (and they seemed to enjoy themselves).

And, I'd like to add, I've now hosted three local get-togethers and, at every single one, a new love connection has been made. Including this one.

9/05/2005 07:13:00 PM  
Anonymous Claire said...

I think you mean Swanky London And/Or Paris Apartment With Ridiculously Low Rent and a Mysterious European Man Who Can Also Cook and Whose Name is Something Cool like Jaques or Night. That’s what the show will be called. But I won’t wear ugly outfits or carry bejeweled swan purses. I will only wear mismatched pajamas. Cause it will be nighttime.

9/06/2005 03:31:00 PM  

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