Kitty Power

You Take The Good, You Take The Bad

On Tuesday afternoon, I was looking worriedly out the window. The sky was downright black, the day overcast, and it just didn't look good out there. I began to wonder if I could just go back to bed and forget about the whole party thing. That wasn't really a good sign.

Still, I soldiered on and pressed my white blazer, looking good but nearly ruined in the wash Sunday. (A personal note for future reference: something that has dye on it isn't a good candidate to be thrown in with your whites. Luckily for me, I skimped on the bleach.) As I was walking out the door, the phone rang. I stood at the door listening to the message. It was my HR contact from the place I'd done a second interview at on Monday. She said something about wanting to "check in" with me and I wondered what the hell that meant. My J train ride was trying to figure out if that meant: 1) "Just calling to tell you that you suck. Thanks for playing. You are the weakest link, goodbye!" 2) "I just wanted to schedule interview #3 with you. If we still like you, you've only got 3 rounds to go!" 3) "I want to offer you the job, but I'm not going to say that on your answering machine." Jay-V and I discussed it on the cells as I made my always running behind ass to the place.

I walked in to see ladders strewn about and workmen working on the ceiling and I almost shit a brick. The co-owner was all, "hey there. Just putting in some fans. We should be done soon. What time are you getting started again?" I replied, "uhh...7." (It was 6:50.) "Hmm," he said. "Well, we'll clean this right up." I nodded a bit worried and strolled off with Jay. We conferred amongst ourselves with "WTF"s as we strolled over to Le Chapeau for some dinner. I sat in the high chair at our table and felt like a giant. I said to her, "hello, little girl, how was your day?" and she later laughed hysterically until tears came out of her eyes when I tucked my napkin in my collar to make a bib. My jacket, dammit! I'm really clumsy. Did I ever mention we're 12 on the inside?

I take a break from dinner to head back over and see the newly arrived PrincessNella, Helen, and S. Friendster. I chat with them before going to the bar and ordering up a Stoli Raspberry and tonic from the ultrahipster bartender. (Mmm...brand name alcohol. I don't even like vodka tonics normally, but that was slamming. And the best part: it was free!) I excused myself to go get my food and Jay and we returned to the same three people sitting there. Around this time, I thought I might should start worrying, but we all just kicked it circle style, as a friend of S. and Helen plus Trendvickster were added later on. Then I decided to start calling folks, most of whom were stuck at work or at home hibernating because of the rain. Promoting is not easy, especially when the weather is the pits, and officially the party was a bust, but I don't feel like it was a total failure -- except business-wise. A group of yuppie randoms wandered in and I sent subliminal messages across the room to persuade them to keep drinking. Lina dropped in and offered the advice to call back the job lady the next morning and be aggressive. Later on came P. Friendster and Kali, who stuck it out with me until I bounced a little after one, trooper style. Everyone was dope, hanging out, talking, laughing, and having a good but definitely low-key considering what we expected. Major thanks going out all that ran through and we were all, "Buck up and keep smiling, sad little clown!" Though I feared the owner would take a pound of flesh out of me because I didn't meet the guarantee, he cut me major slack because of the shitty ass weather and offered to give me another chance in May. That means y'all that skipped, better have your butts up in there, aight?

Strange was the hipster bartender who had left early on yet came back later with friends in tow. He asked me how the party was and I made the hand movements of a pulling a trigger to my head. He sat down with us and tried to reassure me before saying "But, you look great though!" and kissing my hand. Erf? I'm such a bad reader of flirting and such unless they're really blatant, yet even with this one, I'm still skeptical. You should wish you were there though. Ever seen a person who can't actually blush blush? It's quite a sight.

Night overall: A+
Party: C-
Money made: Definitely in the -$ range
Savath + Savalas tickets bought: Nil. If someone can rig that Flavorpill contest so I can win, I might be your best friend. And I'm only partially kidding.

Posted by Candicissima at April 14, 2004 11:36 AM