Two brief, unrelated things.

Ovah at teachergirl's blog, she addresses the matter of fire drills. Which reminded me of a friend I had in the latter part of my Wilderness Years, at the University of Margaritaville* way back when.

This guy was the only ridiculously rich person I had ever met, with a trust fund in the low 8 figures (back when the low 8 figures was really money) and to top it all off he was handsome, charming** and intelligent. But I want you to hold on to the thought he had all the cash anyone could ever want, as it becomes something of a plot point.

There is a certain something that comes over a person when the worry about material security is absent. He was simply a great guy who couldn't give a damn. All he had to do was graduate and he'd be showered with money. (Prudently, his degree was in finance, as he wanted to keep his money.)

At any rate, he and I would often go off for beers when the study schedule was relatively light. (There are a zillion more stories on this, but that's another blog entry.) Sometimes, our outings would cause us to intersect with intriguing demimondaines and our evenings would proceed along a more interesting path, and sometimes we'd lose track of our quaffing and our walk back to campus was somewhat more serpentine than the original trek.

One such evening, after flirting with the waitresses so successfully that our beer allowance had magically doubled at no cost to us, we made it back to our dorm. We were, if I may say so, in Very Poor Shape. Not abysmal shape, but very poor shape indeed. The fact it was 3something a.m. was no help. He flopped into bed and I collapsed on a beanbag.

Directly the fire bell went off.

Our simultaneous response was something along the lines of "oh, @#$% THAT." and we stayed put, figuring the rapid rotation of the building would quickly quench any flames if this was, in fact, a real fire. Now, there was a guy, the R.A. (Resident Assistant, for those not fully up to speed with American university housing jargon) who realllllllllllllllly didn't get along with us. As young Libertarians, we were of the opinion his enforcement of idiotic rules were a violation of our personal liberty, and his zeal in doing so seemed rather selective.

So we didn't go outside to be among the counted.

R.A. was not pleased. We could hear him bounding up the metal staircase. He banged on the door.

"_______, you have to come out!"
"@#$% you."
"I'm serious! Come out!"
"Seriously @#$% you."
"You're going to be fined [pause] a LOT of money."
"How much?"
At which point my pal staggered to the door, threw out two $50s and yelled "keep the change!" and slammed the door.

Okay that one wasn't brief.


The other thing is that you may recall I am scheduled to address a throng of people at a conference, which precludes me going to Poppyville to array myself in white tie this year, to my bitter regret.

I received an email from someone on The Committee and after an exchange (or, if you'd rather, volley) she announced that, of all those speaking, I was the only one who had no questions on my topic and was, interestingly, the only one who had discussed what to wear.

Make of that what you will.


* Not its real name.
** Of all my friends, this one has always been my parents' favorite.


Stomper Girl said…
What WILL you wear? Clearly the other speakers are not sartorially inclined, and you don't want to look over-dressed!

There are days when I would like to be rich enough to throw big bucks at annoying people as if it were confetti and say @#$% you.
Joke said…
I cannot fathom having enough money that I can be ridiculously candid -- blunt, even -- always and everywhere.

The conference is actually a pretty big deal. I haven't fretted over my remarks because I know what I'm going to say, and all I need is a small card with 5-6 bullet points to make sure I don't skip anything.

Maybe -- just maybe -- if the assembled throng clamors for it, I'll post a transcript of my remarks.

My concern was whether this'd be a jacket-and-tie thing, or if I ought to be in a suit.

So that's what's occupying my cranium these days.
Nancy said…
Very impressed by your ability to drop the word demimondaine so casually!
Joke said…
These are the glorious results of a misspent youth.

Caro said…
Parents are suckers for charming friends. One of my daughter's friends who came over exactly once comes to mind. :-)

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