It started out as one of those days: pouring rain in stormy Nashville, the guy on the shuttle from Economy Parking forgot his wallet, and I got a migraine on the plane (but was complimented on my skill at polite and restrained vomiting, and how often do you get to say THAT?).
I met Mary Robinette Kowal at the baggage claim, we risked our lives in traffic to catch a red shuttle bus, met John & Krissy Scalzi at the con hotel elevators, and proceeded to plop down at the bar and not move for roughly five hours. The table–originally occupied by Bill Schaefer, Cherie Priest, and Yanni Kuznia–grew to include our new party, and then Doselle Young, Cat Valente, Elizabeth Bear, Sarah and Allen Monette, Jim C. Hines…I looked around after a few hours and wondered why I should even bother checking in. But I remembered why I came to conventions like this.
And I did get my badge. Eventually. Sometime before dinner. And some time after we drank all the beer. (Pic attached.) Wil Wheaton, sadly, could not be in attendance. John Scalzi, amusingly, will now have to dress like a pirate. It has something to do with a bet. Doesn’t it always. (PenguiCon)
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