Boy Howdy! Let's Have A Meeting!
Greetings all. It's been a long time! Sorry I've been away so long, but I've been a little busy. I got engaged, started a business and decided to take a shot at starting my own religion. Wasn't true, the last part, but the rest is true. Despite my lack of time, I missed writing for D*I*Y Planner so when Doug asked me to start writing again, I was glad to accept. That, and I wanted my cat back. Come on Doug, a deal's a deal.
I thought I'd talk today about an experience I had recently, a warning to all to keep your cell phones charged. I was supposed to have a coffee meeting with a digital animator named Francisco. I live in Vancouver, B.C. and, through careful legislation and oversight, the government has made certain that you are never more than 50 feet from a coffee shop. Needless to say, saying that you're having a coffee meeting in Vancouver is redundant, like saying you're playing ice hockey. It's just understood. They recently announced an emergency plan, in case the big earthquake finally hits, to bring in the army to keep Starbucks open. "YES SIR, DOUBLE TALL, DOUBLE SHOT, NO FOAM, EXTRA WHIP, GRANDE LATTE, SIR!!" Actually, that wouldn't be so different from how they run Starbucks now. But I digress.
So I was supposed to meet Francisco near his house. In the Gay Village.
Now, before I get a bunch of angry comments, let me say that I'm not in any way anti-gay. I live in Vancouver, for crying out loud -- half the city's gay! In fact, it seems somewhat redundant to me to call it the gay village at all -- the whole damned city's a gay village! Gaycouver. Gay people are fabulous (some extremely fabulous); Prop 8 is a foolish waste of time, gay, gay, Boy Howdy! Thank you.
However... having this coffee meeting in the Gay Village did pose one significant problem. Because my cell phone had died.
As I stated before, there are more coffee shops in Vancouver than you'd believe and the Gay Village has enough coffee places to keep the Russian Army caffeinated. Because we'd said we'd meet at Starbucks, I not surprisingly ended up at the wrong one. Not being able to phone Francisco to double-check, all I could do was saunter up to any guy who looked vaguely Spanish and ask,
"Excuse me, are you Francisco?"
"No, but for you, baby, I could be."
This went on for some time until it became clear that I was in the wrong coffee shop. Then having no other option, I started working my way down the street, going from coffee shop to coffee shop asking for Francisco. The men I talked to didn't seem to believe that I was, in actual fact, looking for Francisco and instead seemed to think that my legitimate search was some clever new pick up line, so as I worked my way down the street I was starting to develop a fair following, like some kind of Pied Piper leading a very festive troop down the street.
Fortunately, I did finally find Francisco. He was sitting outside next to a couple of attractive young ladies who were looking at a map, trying to figure out where they'd made a wrong turn. In the end, the meeting went well and the young ladies met a football player who offered to introduce them to the more mainstream Vancouver social scene, so all's well that end's well, especially for the football player.
Until next time, keep your pen on the page and your cell phone charged.