Meeting fellow PIC people, Court, Mikey and Chad was like meeting people I already knew. And why? Because the internet is weird (I will beat that to death and like it, thank you very much). Mikey compared it to online dating but with no lies about who we really were. If someone asked me what those guys were like, I would say, “exactly how I expected” (with the exception of Chad, who is much thinner than his photo lends credit). Mikey is just as self-depreciating and wry in real life. Court sees life through irony-seeking glasses. He especially loves puns, the irony of wordplay. And, as far as puns go (which ain’t very far, in my opinon), he ain’t bad at them. I would tell you some of them but I had them removed from my brain Douglas-Quaid-Style in an attempt to regain my sanity. And Chad is an observant and quiet guffaw hawk, who sits back and adds up the jokes, occasionally lending a chuckling observation or funny reference. At least I think he was. I always saw him at night and by then I was drunk. Anyway, it was a good time all around and interesting in a lot of different ways. Some highlights? Fine, twist my arm.
Meeting fellow PIC people, Court, Mikey and Chad was like meeting people I already knew. And why? Because the internet is weird (I will beat that to death and like it, thank you very much). Mikey compared it to online dating but with no lies about who we really were. If someone asked me what those guys were like, I would say, “exactly how I expected” (with the exception of Chad, who is much thinner than his photo lends credit). Mikey is just as self-depreciating and wry in real life. Court sees life through irony-seeking glasses. He especially loves puns, the irony of wordplay. And, as far as puns go (which ain’t very far, in my opinon), he ain’t bad at them. I would tell you some of them but I had them removed from my brain Douglas-Quaid-Style in an attempt to regain my sanity. And Chad is an observant and quiet guffaw hawk, who sits back and adds up the jokes, occasionally lending a chuckling observation or funny reference. At least I think he was. I always saw him at night and by then I was drunk. Anyway, it was a good time all around and interesting in a lot of different ways. Some highlights? Fine, twist my arm.
Court had me eating chicken at a place called “Eats” and drinking beer at a place called “The Local.” I mean, that’s America right there, folks.
I got kicked out of a bar with two quasi-strangers (not PIC staffers or founders, by the way) for sticking my arm between two elevator doors (from the inside) to hold it for a man named Fred. It just ain’t a weekend if someone doesn’t kick me out of somewhere. But this time… well, it just seemed unfair. I still don’t know what the hell I did.
I freestyled a poem in an Atlanta bar. And the people who heard it seemed to enjoy it. That was nice.
I was approached by a lot of people who seemed to think that I had money and was in the mood to share with strangers. I wasn’t.
I was the first of possibly ten and impossibly thirty people to yell “crackwhore” as a suggestion for an improv theatre group. They worked it in twice, too. Gotta give the audience what they want.
I learned that Court Sullivan has a color system whereby he can tell (at a glance) which of the many items on his to-do-lists can be accomplished only in the daytime (like going to the dentist, for example), so he can plan his early afternoon accordingly. What a life.
And finally, the real kicker, as I was driving home, my Mom called to say that she was happy that I hadn’t gotten in an accident or wound up in jail. It’s nice to have people in your life that know you, ain’t it?
Yeah, well, most of the time it is.