People on The Twitter do these things called "Tweet Ups" - you know, Twitter meet ups. I've never been to one, largely because I don't follow many local people and didn't even know that they had them here. But then I met Lynn and she told me that they do, and then she invited me to one on Friday for lunch. Sushi!
I told her that I'd certainly try very hard to talk myself into going. She mentioned that there were a lot of journalism types, and since it's the journalism types who get to decide who gets paid for writing, they seem like people I should make some effort to meet.
Naturally, I was running late. It was at noon and I'd slept in after staying up until almost 4am writing first draft movie lines for you people. I did take the time to cover the dark circles under my eyes, although I briefly first considered just trying to convince everyone there that I was part raccoon.
Then I went to get dressed. I realized that, not only were most of my clothes either dirty or in some stage of being cleaned, but that every single non-push-up bra I own was in the dryer.
So my choices were to wait for the dryer and be even later, show up to meet a bunch of new people at a workday lunch with giant padded knockers, or pull a bra out of the dryer and shoot it with the hairdryer. I went with option C.
The day may come that I don't have to Lucy Ricardo my way through, but Friday wasn't it.
I texted Lynn to tell her that I was on my way and ask her to save me a seat. It was at the very end of the table, so I really only talked to about four new people, but that was good. One of them was a founder of the new website Savor SA and a serious foodie. When I asked him whether there was an Ethiopian restaurant in town, the depth of sadness and frustration in his "No." told me that this was a man I could trust to tell me where to eat.
So maybe I didn't make any important networking connections or BFFs, but I did find out where to get the best Greek food in town. And if anybody noticed that my bra was damp, they didn't say a word.