ditch

so the bastard has been getting out every now and again mostly due to his unfortunate production foibles once in a great while, i'm there in the cube and someone goes, "hey bastard, we're going to blah blah blah, wanna come out for a drink". or there is the occasional, "i have to do this and that but i don't want to." which is followed by "so don't, let's go out for a drink" or "let's get a bite to eat", and then errands to crashing down to the wayside. this particular event came at the suggestion of ms. cin. cin works the pitchers over at the magazine and she had a function to go to and asked if i'd like to come along. cin's friend, agent wilcox was in town so i got on board. we met up with agent wilcox at his hotel and then upon the suggestion of getting a little starter he points out the dive, divier and diviest bar choices for a drink. we all of course choose divier because, you want to give the dive experience the benefit of the doubt and possibly get a clean glass as well.

after this we head downtown to the knitting factory where said event was, we met up with cin's friend from the upper west. westie used to work for the other bullet book across the way from our bullet book. so we met some people, some guy named john who was gushing about his prized possession, a fold up bike that he has to "sneak" into one of his collegiate assignments lest security give him the grief. i so wish i took a picture of the bike when he left but, it didn't occur to me to take pictures until the after party (after party you say? read on jerkface) which is what we see here. anyway, we tuck in and i mostly chat with whomever cin and westie are talking to because the only photographers the bastard talks with are the people i do business with. i don't meet alot of photographers. why the hell am i explaining this crap to you. don't you have something better to do? anyway at some point later on in the event, cin asks me to hold her drink, she has to use the facilities. sure says bastard and i lean up on the bar and watch special agaent wilcox do a combination dance that consists of networking and macking, very fun to watch. i ended up speaking to some of the more senior members of the aspp (that's the people who threw the party) and eventually westie rescued me from them when we found that cin had gone missing. we sent westie to the bathroom just in case she fell in and agent wilcox took the coat check. cin had flown the coop and was about 10 minutes gone when we were looking for her. i was a little surprised but westie was not. so we did what any self respecting person would do in that situation...go to the after party.

after party was at the puck building. it was another photo organization and the place was huge. i mean huge for a space in lower manhattan. the bastard really went because i wanted to see the place and it was technically crashing the party as we weren't on the guest list and i haven't crashed a party since well i guess halloween but that doesn't really count. westie's buddy at the major newspaper she was freelancing at said just put you name on a sticker, stick it on your shirt and walk in. why would he lie? he was wearing a fur hat and you know what that means? right, that he's toasty, fucking warm. anyway, sure as schieß, fuzzy hat was right, we scooted right in, nice and smooth. truth to tell, i was only there an hour. the bastard was tired and needed to get up for work and make that magical window to the lirr to get back to frikkin shangra la. on the way home i felt kind of miffed about getting ditched. even moreso because it ran like, "hold my drink, i'l be right back". no joke, i held her drink and didn't take a bloody sip of it until i heard ms. cin had split. it was a little embarrassing. ok, it was alot embarrasing but, i got over it.

next morning, scoop asked me how it went and all the bastard said was, "real interesting." i settled with ms. cin later when she came in. funny thing for me was that she forgot that whole part which made me laugh my ass off. good show.

—the bastard