I am waaay behind on posting.
I never finished talking about my Vegas trip, so I’ll pick up where I left off.
The Fujinon company appreciation party was held at The Four Seasons. I snuck in through my connections who cautioned me not to ‘blaze past’ the outstretched hands of the hosts (as they’d done the year before). Having some decorum, naturally, I shook the hands of a dozen Fuji executives, including the President. I somehow refrained from saying something totally dorky like, “I, er, love your film. Good stuff, there.”
There was incredible sushi, crab claws, and drink to be had, and a passable Rod Stewart.
Those of you who know me well know exactly how ‘charmed’ I was by that performance. I suddenly remembered the party I’d* actually paid to go to at a nightclub in Ceasar’s Palace called PURE.
How lame was that? How could I have not anticipated its lameness? Where was my head? I met a couple of cool guys, I shook my ass, but I’m just not into the “see and be seen” club scene**.
Before the end of the week, I walked the show floor with Oscar (a fellow beekeeper). It’s great to put a face (and voice) with a name, and now I know who to talk to when I need advice on heavy-duty corporate negotiation. “How about you give us your prototype, and we not give you anything at all. Good? Great!”
I also had dinner with konamouse, who I’d never met before. It was great! She was very friendly and had lots to say about the town. As an old hand at ARGs, I listened at her feet as she regaled the Days of Yore.
Mostly, I was at the conference to learn, so I listened, studied and noted deeply technical things for eight hours a day. My brain melted every night, and only my HD Plasma TV kept it from seeping out my ears (ahhh, calcification).
The massage in the hallway wasn’t at all optional by that point – I couldn’t walk straight, and my back had given up and taken a cab back to my hotel room, where it was sitting on a bucket of ice and calling me a masochistic motherfucker. Seriously, it was pissed. I let her pound the crap out of my middle back, and I, in return***, tried not to drool on her equipment. Bad form, y’know.
The trip back was uneventful, but the vegas airport was amusing (TSA warnings designed to represent each major casino) and had very friendly TSA agents – that seriously made my trip easier, I wish more airports pulled the stick out of their asses.
I COULD NOT WAIT TO GET HOME.
Penguicon experiences to follow.
* and by “I” I mean my company.
** I’m so fucking amused by my own wordplay.
*** okay, no drool and $20 bucks.
I love the TSA movies. Many Las Vegas celebrities doing little skits about removing metal, no weapons, carryon only, etc. Nicely entertaining while standing in lines (albeit now getting a bit old if you leave town a few times a year).
Yeah, I saw it last year when I was there for NADA, but it had been long enough that I had forgotten.
The line was really long (but fast-moving) for security, but it was made up for by security guards who were at least vaguely conversational. This whole “hard-ass 24/7” thing has to be rough on them.
Yeah, I saw it last year when I was there for NADA, but it had been long enough that I had forgotten.
The line was really long (but fast-moving) for security, but it was made up for by security guards who were at least vaguely conversational. This whole “hard-ass 24/7” thing has to be rough on them.
I love the TSA movies. Many Las Vegas celebrities doing little skits about removing metal, no weapons, carryon only, etc. Nicely entertaining while standing in lines (albeit now getting a bit old if you leave town a few times a year).