Dec. 15th, 2013 09:59 pm
That's not my name
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muckefuckToday was a more productive day than I expected to have given the hour I stumbled in last night. Just goes to show what a wimp I am most weekends. Now we have a tree (even if it's leaning frozen out on the deck, not even pruned much less trimmed), four more loaves of pumpkin bread, and at least two more meals of a beany kind. The cannellini cooked in about forty-five minutes, so when our DVD of Flying swords of Dragon Gate (龍門飛甲) crapped out halfway through (thanks again, NefFlix!) it was already read. It was on the saltier side of what I like, but quite tasty and perfectly suited to a cold night.
The party was...interesting. I'd forgotten that the couple who invited me were part of the local gay square dance cult, so there were several familiar faces I was taken aback to see. Plus, given the incestuous nature of our little social circle, some surprising connexions. It turns out, for instance, that a couple I met through Game Night used to have a salon where the side bar at North End is now and someone I know vaguely through![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
monshu's good friend and former coworker was a regular customer. I got introduced around to some interesting guys. Nowadays I'm finding that the stressful part of these interactions isn't so much the initial meeting, where I can usually muster charm enough to my satisfaction, but the social media followup. It's like an immediate performance evaluation. Was that guy really amused by my banter or was he just being polite? Send a Friend request (no one ever tracks me down and sends one to me) and find out! Well, the most simpatico guy I talked to whose name I could remember Friended me back, so all's well, right?
To lessen the burden of mingling, our hosts had printed out name tags for us to wear. But about halfway through the evening, I met someone who was wearing someone else's, so I began ripping them off the chests of everyone within reach and redistributing them. Later, I looked through the no shows and chose a new one, which is how Mr Simpatico came to greet me today with "Carlene!" Oh, and we had another sorry example of what passes for "bartending" in this milieu. "Old Fashioned" drew a blank look so I said, "Just make me a Manhattan". That got an even blanker look and a confession that "Most people just want one thing." He ended up making it "perfect" through sheer incompetence. But, hey, several guys found him pretty to look at and fun to touch, so who am I to be all judgy?
The party was...interesting. I'd forgotten that the couple who invited me were part of the local gay square dance cult, so there were several familiar faces I was taken aback to see. Plus, given the incestuous nature of our little social circle, some surprising connexions. It turns out, for instance, that a couple I met through Game Night used to have a salon where the side bar at North End is now and someone I know vaguely through
monshu's good friend and former coworker was a regular customer. I got introduced around to some interesting guys. Nowadays I'm finding that the stressful part of these interactions isn't so much the initial meeting, where I can usually muster charm enough to my satisfaction, but the social media followup. It's like an immediate performance evaluation. Was that guy really amused by my banter or was he just being polite? Send a Friend request (no one ever tracks me down and sends one to me) and find out! Well, the most simpatico guy I talked to whose name I could remember Friended me back, so all's well, right?To lessen the burden of mingling, our hosts had printed out name tags for us to wear. But about halfway through the evening, I met someone who was wearing someone else's, so I began ripping them off the chests of everyone within reach and redistributing them. Later, I looked through the no shows and chose a new one, which is how Mr Simpatico came to greet me today with "Carlene!" Oh, and we had another sorry example of what passes for "bartending" in this milieu. "Old Fashioned" drew a blank look so I said, "Just make me a Manhattan". That got an even blanker look and a confession that "Most people just want one thing." He ended up making it "perfect" through sheer incompetence. But, hey, several guys found him pretty to look at and fun to touch, so who am I to be all judgy?