Happy eclipse
Eclipse action this coming Monday evening. Last eclipse I watched was in the fall of 1996, I think. I sat on the balcony of my north Austin apartment, and watched the moon disappear in the east, just after sunset. Unrelated news from “page six” [via red headed cap>. Sunday consisted of a lot of coffee and not much else.
The only item on my calendar was an Austin online journal writers social gathering. I woke up late and ambled off to the meeting with a Gemini guy, who, for the sake of clarity, is not called “Bubba” by any stretch of the imagination. The meeting went on for hours, and then, we all piled in various vehicles and took off for some Vietnamese cuisine. Just seemed like the thing to do. From unemployed to overly-employed, the crowd was its usual diverse group.
What do we talk about? “[blah blah blah> firewall compromised.” “Hey, you can get a cream for that.” So the jokes skated the border between geek and profane, but it’s nice to chatter with other web writers, get in some good gossip. If you’re not there, you might be a topic of conversation.
So it was coffee talk, table talk, and lots of other interesting bits of conversation, rather free-form, and afterwards, over bowls of noodles, I noticed that the only person of vaguely Asian [okay, so it’s a \\stretch\\, my apologies> roots was using a fork while the rest of us were quite capable with chopsticks.
We were largely unsuccessful at clearing any of the places out with Hunter Thompson & Las Vegas, or the fact that this site is one year old [with my submission on it>:Blackmail Boot.
As I pulled on shirt before meeting a client Saturday evening [one must work when work presents itself>, I realized I hadn’t worn a shirt in close to 48 hours, the last time being sometime Thursday evening, early on. I wonder if that qualifies as success in life?
I was treated to dinner at the Alligator Grill, arguably most famous for a few scenes from Office Space. Afterwards, the girls wanted to stop at the Horseshoe Lounge for a quick nightcap. We ran into a passing acquaintance of mine, he took a look at me with three women, and asked what we were doing later.
The Virgo girl, ever fast on her feet, replied: “We’re going to flip a coin, and two of us get Kramer.” “So, what’s the third going to do?” he asked. “Somebody’s got to run the camera,” she replied, without losing a beat.
Never let the truth interfere with a good story.
