As we entered, we learned that they weren’t serving any food. At all. At 7pm. Then the doorman got all pissy with me when I tried to retrieve my just-handed-over ticket so I could grab some grub across the street (Him: “Uhhh, I mean, I don’t even know which ticket is yours.” Me: “Dude, it’s the one on top that I just handed you.”).
A few of us left to eat and chat (probably the highlight of the night). When we got back, I started noticing all the differences between the Chicago scene and the Boston scene. Simply put, as I saw it last night: Boston = Daphne. Chicago = Velma. Which I actually dig. A lot. I’m not a Daphne at all.
But there are some pros to Daphne-ness. Like hors d'oeuvres.
Back in the land of Velma, the bar closed for an hour during the awards ceremony. And then there was a… comedian? I think? (though he could have been someone really important) shouting about something on the stage. But the sound was all off and no one paid attention to him, so I couldn’t hear anything. The few words I caught:
“Easily offended…. IS NOT…. you.”
“Winning in Chicago…. HARD”
“Shot… bar… award…”
They only gave out 6 awards. So 6 people got to drink during the show. And everyone else stood in front of the bar, waiting/fuming.
Then the bar reopened for 5 minutes. Then it shut down again. Then it reopened again, as a cash bar.
By the time the band came on (which was a pretty cool add to the night), I was tired and ready to leave. So I did. And a weird man in a Technicolor sports jacket followed me out, asking me over and over if I worked at an “Advertising Agency.”
Velma. She’s a cool, down chick. She keeps it real. But sometimes she needs to get her ‘ish together.




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