Oh, Christ! Not again!
I was very lucky today, in that ladybird97 is in the Boston area and was free for lunch this afternoon. Sneaky bastard that I am, I suggested we go out early so I could have as much ladybird time as possible. I got over two hours, which was awesome, but I didn't get uninterrupted ladybird time, because, "Oh, Christ, the freakshow's found me again." Yes. Aslan sent another adventure today, in the form of a chatty stranger.
Admittedly, it was partly my fault. In a fit of optimism almost totally foreign to my nature, I decided the Diesel wouldn't be insanely crowded, and would therefore be a good place for lunch. Clearly, I'm an idiot. In my defense, I'm usually looking for space for more than two when I'm at the Diesel. Still, it was so crowded yesterday pantsie and humanbeatbox didn't want to wait there, much less try to find a table for three. So, like I said, I'm an idiot.
Anyway, ladybird97 and I went there at 11:45 and made the mistake of ordering before we found a seat. The result was us with food and drink and no place to sit. With few options, I decided to find a booth/table with one person who looked like they were almost finished. When I found this paragon, I asked if we could join him, figuring he would feel out of place and leave shortly. The best laid plans, etc., etc.
What he actually did was insert himself into our conversation. Turns out he's also a tech writer, so he started by commiserated about my job search. Then he moved on to his ideas about entertainment and the nature of the World Wide Web. Eventually, we got to accordions, busking, and the likely value of a fiddle of gold won in a bet with the Devil. I also got to give my one line review of Tron: Legacy, "It's like a stereotypical cheerleader: very pretty, and very, very dumb."
In all fairness, he seemed very nice and it was quite a varied and interesting conversation. The problem was that I wasn't there to have a varied and interesting conversation; I was there to have a varied and interesting conversation with a specific person, a person who is an old and dear friend, a person I don't get to see very often, and most importantly, a person that wasn't him. It didn't help that he was right out of Central Geek Casting: long hair, dubious shaving habits, and granny glasses perched on a long nose. Yes, it's the Techie Philosopher, sharing his ideas whether they're solicited or not. When did lunch turn into a cliche? (Oh, yeah, when we walked in the door of the Diesel. I really am an idiot.)
My lovely lunch companion finally saved the day by noting it was 1 PM and we had to leave. We suited action to the word and walked over to JP Licks, and ran into some friends on the way. This was more welcome interruption and also a shorter one, since they were on their was elsewhere. At JP Licks, ladybird had a kiddie cup of candy cane ice cream, which is awesome, and we had the conversation we'd tried to have at the Diesel. Also, we heard one of the stranger musical segues ever, when the theme song from The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air gave way to "Have Another Drink" from the Kinks' deservedly obscure Soap Opera album.
So the story has a happy ending. Conversation was had and strange musical segues. She learned that the Kinks have an album called Soap Opera that she shouldn't seek out, and I learned that Great Big Sea covered "It's The End Of The World As We Know It." And then she headed off to meet up with other friends (some of whom are my lj, and real life, friends as well), while I came back home and opted to write this post before I send out resumes, instead of afterward.
Admittedly, it was partly my fault. In a fit of optimism almost totally foreign to my nature, I decided the Diesel wouldn't be insanely crowded, and would therefore be a good place for lunch. Clearly, I'm an idiot. In my defense, I'm usually looking for space for more than two when I'm at the Diesel. Still, it was so crowded yesterday pantsie and humanbeatbox didn't want to wait there, much less try to find a table for three. So, like I said, I'm an idiot.
Anyway, ladybird97 and I went there at 11:45 and made the mistake of ordering before we found a seat. The result was us with food and drink and no place to sit. With few options, I decided to find a booth/table with one person who looked like they were almost finished. When I found this paragon, I asked if we could join him, figuring he would feel out of place and leave shortly. The best laid plans, etc., etc.
What he actually did was insert himself into our conversation. Turns out he's also a tech writer, so he started by commiserated about my job search. Then he moved on to his ideas about entertainment and the nature of the World Wide Web. Eventually, we got to accordions, busking, and the likely value of a fiddle of gold won in a bet with the Devil. I also got to give my one line review of Tron: Legacy, "It's like a stereotypical cheerleader: very pretty, and very, very dumb."
In all fairness, he seemed very nice and it was quite a varied and interesting conversation. The problem was that I wasn't there to have a varied and interesting conversation; I was there to have a varied and interesting conversation with a specific person, a person who is an old and dear friend, a person I don't get to see very often, and most importantly, a person that wasn't him. It didn't help that he was right out of Central Geek Casting: long hair, dubious shaving habits, and granny glasses perched on a long nose. Yes, it's the Techie Philosopher, sharing his ideas whether they're solicited or not. When did lunch turn into a cliche? (Oh, yeah, when we walked in the door of the Diesel. I really am an idiot.)
My lovely lunch companion finally saved the day by noting it was 1 PM and we had to leave. We suited action to the word and walked over to JP Licks, and ran into some friends on the way. This was more welcome interruption and also a shorter one, since they were on their was elsewhere. At JP Licks, ladybird had a kiddie cup of candy cane ice cream, which is awesome, and we had the conversation we'd tried to have at the Diesel. Also, we heard one of the stranger musical segues ever, when the theme song from The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air gave way to "Have Another Drink" from the Kinks' deservedly obscure Soap Opera album.
So the story has a happy ending. Conversation was had and strange musical segues. She learned that the Kinks have an album called Soap Opera that she shouldn't seek out, and I learned that Great Big Sea covered "It's The End Of The World As We Know It." And then she headed off to meet up with other friends (some of whom are my lj, and real life, friends as well), while I came back home and opted to write this post before I send out resumes, instead of afterward.