Be kind to drunks, for you were once one of them.
Interesting evening after Blackhat. As normal I get invited to a bunch of the after-hours parties. As normal they have a massive amount of booze on tap for consumption. And as normal people get rip roaring drunk.
Such is life, I have to accept and deal with these sorts of things.
Anyway, while wandering around Caesar's I ran into a guy who liked my THINK T-shirt. Turns out he collected "classic computers" at which point I realized the world was going to get small again.
It was of course Maddox, and he remembered me from way back in the pdp8 days. This was well before I even joined Elbows, long time ago. Anyway we chatted, then I took him with me to hit a bunch of parties.
Jet, Edge, the Bank, that place in Paris, we hit them all. Massive music, insane amounts of hackers, good place to just be. We got drinks, chatted with people, did all the stuff we like to do, then finally it was time to go back to the proverbial barn.
At that point we found Jeff. Jeff (not his real name) was stumbling around the Bellagio looking for a party and not doing too well. He was a Black-Hatter and I could see security kind of circling him like sharks circling a wounded whale. So we grabbed him and figured out where his hotel was: "Paris".
No, Jeff would not live in crossing the street. That's something you would leave to a 5 year old, not someone in his advanced state of mind. So we walked him back to Aria, and while doing so we talked to keep him in the moment.
Good guy. Works for Boeing, manages a lab of systems, that sort of stuff. Granted I was also quite smashed, but for whatever reason I'm able to at least walk straight lines. So we talked and walked and I showed him how to get out of a tram and all that.
Finally we made it to the hotel. An appropriate tip to the cab caller and a request to "get my friend back to Paris and into his room" oddly enough works well with the parking people. They managed to coax him into a cab, and when he got to Paris he would be gently handled by staff back to his room. Much like a fine Faberge egg. Ok, a 250+ pound egg, or something like that. :-)
So just another of those little odd adventures in life. There were times in my past when people helped me when I really needed it, I was glad to be able to return the favor a bit. It is really about people...
CZ
Such is life, I have to accept and deal with these sorts of things.
Anyway, while wandering around Caesar's I ran into a guy who liked my THINK T-shirt. Turns out he collected "classic computers" at which point I realized the world was going to get small again.
It was of course Maddox, and he remembered me from way back in the pdp8 days. This was well before I even joined Elbows, long time ago. Anyway we chatted, then I took him with me to hit a bunch of parties.
Jet, Edge, the Bank, that place in Paris, we hit them all. Massive music, insane amounts of hackers, good place to just be. We got drinks, chatted with people, did all the stuff we like to do, then finally it was time to go back to the proverbial barn.
At that point we found Jeff. Jeff (not his real name) was stumbling around the Bellagio looking for a party and not doing too well. He was a Black-Hatter and I could see security kind of circling him like sharks circling a wounded whale. So we grabbed him and figured out where his hotel was: "Paris".
No, Jeff would not live in crossing the street. That's something you would leave to a 5 year old, not someone in his advanced state of mind. So we walked him back to Aria, and while doing so we talked to keep him in the moment.
Good guy. Works for Boeing, manages a lab of systems, that sort of stuff. Granted I was also quite smashed, but for whatever reason I'm able to at least walk straight lines. So we talked and walked and I showed him how to get out of a tram and all that.
Finally we made it to the hotel. An appropriate tip to the cab caller and a request to "get my friend back to Paris and into his room" oddly enough works well with the parking people. They managed to coax him into a cab, and when he got to Paris he would be gently handled by staff back to his room. Much like a fine Faberge egg. Ok, a 250+ pound egg, or something like that. :-)
So just another of those little odd adventures in life. There were times in my past when people helped me when I really needed it, I was glad to be able to return the favor a bit. It is really about people...
CZ