(no subject)
...and the old woman smiled kindly and tucked the sheet of acid tabs into her floral-bound notebook. she and i had just been introduced to the young man who'd given it to her, who was part of a musical tesla-coil band. this woman must be wonderful to work with, i said to my contact, Mr. Normal, across the room, and he agreed. i was introduced to a largish machinist who built ramjets on motorcycles. he was describing a chariot race which he wanted some horn players to announce: he was going to collect the teeth after the chariot races. half of the teeth that the racers lost would go to the winner of the overall race, after some runoffs. the other half would go to his fabrication collective, which was the race sponsor. they needed the teeth. he introduced me to a few of his beautiful co-workers, and we were interrupted by the entrance of the publishing mogul behind the giant science fair we had all assembled to put on. he was introduced to the assembled by the husband and wife couple behind my favorite street art website from my younger years, who were hosting this particular gathering in their Collective space. there was a video of the tesla-coil music, with swords and a caged woman in a bride-of-frankenstein getup. the large machinist pushed across the room to introduce me to his person in charge of volunteers so i could help them out in their machine shop. then the shmoozing began. some guy told me about his ancient computers museum. a beautiful woman exclaimed to me, 'i'm in a hacker collective!' and she was. tv news casters wandered freely. the tesla-coil guy wondered if the bathroom line was where the bong had been hiding. across the room the face who's video blogs i'd watched every week for a year stood talking with the on-the-ground line-manager...