To all the readers I've disappointed, I offer condolences on my blogging infrequency. However written words, as flowery as they may be, make little difference without action to support them. Thus I shall humble myself to the service of guiding you through the rough territory of the inside scoop, the flavor of which will be PICstaffmembers ‘n cream. After spending the weekend in HAWTLANTA, I am prepared to spill some of the beans that make up the burrito of mystery surrounding elusive master chef Court Sullivan. Not to mention the talky bartender Nate Degraaf. So without further extended conceits, I present my initial account of the PIC Prohibition Party Weekend.
Thursday night I arrive by plane. The next hour becomes a Real World-esque trek to Court's loft where I roll my luggage bag all over and gaze wide-eyedingly at the city around me. Okay I took a train and walked 2 blocks, but I still entered the place going “Oh My God! Check out the Pool Table!” Then we jumped naked into the pool and yelled about who didn't clean the dishes.
It is amazing how wrong you can be about what people's voices would sound like. Court sounded a little soprano, Nate sounded a little like Joe Pesci, and Court's girlfriend sounded a little drunk.
Having said that, it is amazing how right you can be about someone's personality. I had never met Court or Nate before except in internet terms, and yet we conversed as if we'd known each other for months. It was the exact opposite of every first encounter I've ever had, and they even laughed at all my pick-up lines.
Except for Nate, who was too busy making his own on every female waitress… or pedestrian. Let me tell you about Nate. In a word, he's the nicest asshole you'll ever meet. He'll strike a conversation with just about anyone, and once you've started him on a story, he'll keep going with more. He has a funny trait of recalling a quote someone once said about the current situation. And his favorite type of story to tell is by far the “how I once got laid” story. If you're in a donut shop, he'll tell you about how he once nailed a girl in a donut shop… almost as if he surprises himself every time it happens. On paper I'm sure he sounds like a complete tool… but I have to admit there's something true to him that actually kind of interesting. I decided that Nate should create a service where he hangs out with you and finds all the interesting stuff in your town, kind of like a male escort. He's good at creating stories.
And then there's Court. The king of PIC sits in a throne of dry punny, awkward humor. After every sentence he rolls his eyes and does a mini shrug. It's quite funny. He kinda ambles around his loft, without really caring much about anything. He's laid back, constantly making quips, and being irresistible to me. From the moment he showed me to my cot, to the wave goodbye, I could not help but think what it would be like to live with this man in harmony. That sounds totally gay, but let me explain: I want to be gay with Court Sullivan. By now I've realized how awkward this is, but you've got to believe me when I tell you that you have no idea. This man crush is WAY outta hand. The Atlanta trip completely rejuvenated my PIC love, and hopefully has pulled me out of my no-column slump. If nothing else I'll do it to impress Court.
Oh yea Chad Chamley was there. He's from South Dakota, and Minnesota or something. Not a bad guy.
The rest of the weekend: Beer, late night food, improv comedy, some crazy good dark winterbock brew, and not a single establishment carding me.