Fleeing Fritz's
As a sometime blogger, I feel it is my duty to keep you informed of your fellow bloggers' conduct. Therefore, I submit to you yet another true and accurate report of a blogmeet. This one in my hometown.
Let me start by saying this: I'm not sure that I'm ever going to do another blogmeet. Ever. I'm kinda sick of carrying the conversation all evening. Dries out the vocal chords. I'm not saying that these aren't good people, but holy crap, they are quiet.
Once again, I was one of the first there, this time at Fritz's Wooden Nickel. Of course, this could possibly be because I live only a few blocks away, but I prefer to say that it's because I really care about meeting people. Really. A more outgoing son of a motherless goat you will not meet. Anyway, not long after I walked in, Tammi arrived. I introduced her to some of the locals, and then in walked the man, the myth, the guy who looks just like his baby picture: Harvey. And by his side, stood hisenforcer lovely wife, TNT. This time, there was no "ring incident." I had talked with TNT earlier and explained that if he were to have me beaten again, the locals would make short work of them. I also pointed out that Harvey does have kind of a pretty mouth, and it wouldn't go unnoticed. For the most part, it was an uneventful meeting. Although, I did knock over a couple of bar stools trying to cover myself when he jokingly flashed his ring at me. What a kidder!
Teresa showed up a little late, and once again, she was more than a little grouchy. Seems that some bonehead had forgotten that there are actually two Hwy. 20 exits between here and Chicago. She was not one to be messed with, at least not at first. She actually did smile a couple of times, but as soon as she was aware of it, well, whoever happened to be talking to her at the time bore the brunt of her wrath. She just does not seem to want to be happy!
We were all a little disappointed that Grau wasn't going to make it. He came up with some really dumbass excuse as to why he couldn't show. I mean, it's Mother's DAY, not weekend, right? And his wife isn't actually his mother, so why the hell not spend Saturday evening with us, instead of staying in the Frizzen Cave? Piss poor excuse, blog sperm donor! Piss poor blogdad, period. I hope you've been paying Harvey child support, you troglodyte bastard!
About the time that we had given up hope that anyone else was coming (perhaps I should say I had given up hope... I was running out of things to talk about), in walked Contagion and Little Joe. I had met Contagion before, but this was the first time meeting Little Joe. His name is apt... if he received his moniker from Robert Wadlow. And, he looked like a guy who might enjoy visiting... boy, was I wrong.
Contagion seemed content to take Eric's role from the last meet. Couldn't get him to make a sound if you lit him on fire. (Which Harvey the sadist did try) Little Joe took a bit, but he finally started to feel comfortable and opened up some. We just had to take care not to move too quickly... he would try to dive under the table at sudden motion. And, as I pointed out, he's not the smallest guy... we ended up picking up dishes a couple of times.
Oh, and speaking of dishes, guess what my new job is going to be for a few weeks: If you said "Dishwasher," you are absolutely correct! Any guesses as to how that came about? Well, I'll just tell you. I made the mistake of getting up to hit the restroom, and when I came back, not one blogger was left in the bar! Dine and dash... and leave me to get tackled as I tried to run out the door! Thank God Fritz likes me, so he only hit me with the bar stool twice. I worked out a schedule, and I'll be getting rid of the large bill that these guys left.
Nope, I don't think I'm going to do this again. Too much talking, and too much work... both setting it up, and paying for it.
Update:
Teresa gives a slightly different version of the evening's events.
Let me start by saying this: I'm not sure that I'm ever going to do another blogmeet. Ever. I'm kinda sick of carrying the conversation all evening. Dries out the vocal chords. I'm not saying that these aren't good people, but holy crap, they are quiet.
Once again, I was one of the first there, this time at Fritz's Wooden Nickel. Of course, this could possibly be because I live only a few blocks away, but I prefer to say that it's because I really care about meeting people. Really. A more outgoing son of a motherless goat you will not meet. Anyway, not long after I walked in, Tammi arrived. I introduced her to some of the locals, and then in walked the man, the myth, the guy who looks just like his baby picture: Harvey. And by his side, stood his
Teresa showed up a little late, and once again, she was more than a little grouchy. Seems that some bonehead had forgotten that there are actually two Hwy. 20 exits between here and Chicago. She was not one to be messed with, at least not at first. She actually did smile a couple of times, but as soon as she was aware of it, well, whoever happened to be talking to her at the time bore the brunt of her wrath. She just does not seem to want to be happy!
We were all a little disappointed that Grau wasn't going to make it. He came up with some really dumbass excuse as to why he couldn't show. I mean, it's Mother's DAY, not weekend, right? And his wife isn't actually his mother, so why the hell not spend Saturday evening with us, instead of staying in the Frizzen Cave? Piss poor excuse, blog sperm donor! Piss poor blogdad, period. I hope you've been paying Harvey child support, you troglodyte bastard!
About the time that we had given up hope that anyone else was coming (perhaps I should say I had given up hope... I was running out of things to talk about), in walked Contagion and Little Joe. I had met Contagion before, but this was the first time meeting Little Joe. His name is apt... if he received his moniker from Robert Wadlow. And, he looked like a guy who might enjoy visiting... boy, was I wrong.
Contagion seemed content to take Eric's role from the last meet. Couldn't get him to make a sound if you lit him on fire. (Which Harvey the sadist did try) Little Joe took a bit, but he finally started to feel comfortable and opened up some. We just had to take care not to move too quickly... he would try to dive under the table at sudden motion. And, as I pointed out, he's not the smallest guy... we ended up picking up dishes a couple of times.
Oh, and speaking of dishes, guess what my new job is going to be for a few weeks: If you said "Dishwasher," you are absolutely correct! Any guesses as to how that came about? Well, I'll just tell you. I made the mistake of getting up to hit the restroom, and when I came back, not one blogger was left in the bar! Dine and dash... and leave me to get tackled as I tried to run out the door! Thank God Fritz likes me, so he only hit me with the bar stool twice. I worked out a schedule, and I'll be getting rid of the large bill that these guys left.
Nope, I don't think I'm going to do this again. Too much talking, and too much work... both setting it up, and paying for it.
Update:
Teresa gives a slightly different version of the evening's events.
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