I got to the happy hour with an odd feeling of foreboding. I was freaked out by the possibility that we would be drawn into some sort of debate, worse yet some discourse wherein we shared our views on the state of the country, attempted to find a way of getting the President to listen to us and even worse; Buy Our Own Drinks…
I walked past the Blogger table, when first I got there. Its not that I enjoy walking past Blogger tables or anything. On the contrary, I love Blogger Tables. Especially the little wooden ones with free drinks on them…oh sweet sweet Blogger Tables! I walked past because, unlike your garden variety of table, Blogger Tables stay in one place and mimic the behaviour of those around them.
Come to think of it, they are not too different from some of our politicians.
Upon realising that I was in fact out of place, I figured I’d go into Mateos’ and glance around. I adopted a strategy I felt would conceal the fact that I was looking for people; I fiddled around with my phone.
We were having a grand ol’ time my phone and I when a shout cut through the air like only a voice cutting through the air can. “Ivan” The air cutting shout said, muttered, whatever…At this point I’m thinking, “Shoot! There goes my anonymity!” Granted I could have just as easily looked around like I was thinking, “Ivan? Who the **** is Ivan?”… it seemed everyone around knew who the person in question was. Heck, at that point a “boda boda dude” could have easily crossed the road, walked up to me and said, “someone’s calling you mate.”
So I walked down the stairs, my watch ticked away, because that’s what watches do, and all around me people got to know who I was. I picked up a chair and glanced at Dee with an expression to imply that I was hurt that she’d gone and exposed me. When that failed to work, I walked the road oft travelled and said it…Oh and I was sitting next to ********** (see, now you are anonymous again like all communists should be.)
So there we were, bloggers all..and then some, talking like old friends sans the disses, that is, until Denis…Dennis…heck, till THIS GUY showed up.
At some point we remembered our absent bloggers, well, we didn’t come out and say it, but deep down I’m sure we thought about it.
It was a grand ol’ time, and y’all shoulda been there..Up next: The Blogger Awards…