"I know who you are!" he said randomly. I gave the patented "huh?" look and played dumb.
My first mistake was mentioning the blog. I usually avoid that sort of thing with strangers. I do this whole blogger thing in a bizarro way. I'm not necessarily anonymous because it really wouldn't take much effort to know my last name (as is the case when you're doing interviews and shit) and y'all already know what I look like -- I mean, hello, step back from your computer and my face is right there. But, I'm also not trying to be overly stalker friendly either and I strip a lot of things out. And I'm so not up on the whole blog networking thing. That's a personal problem I suppose.
This situation was a little unique. The scene: where I've been hanging out too late on a school night one Wednesday a month for a while now. The guy who was outing me wasn't necessarily an unfamiliar face. I'd had a eureka moment about him the first time I ever went there, but I was playing that close to the chest. I wasn't necessarily waiting to be cornered like I ended up, but I wasn't going to make a random dummy out of myself for kicks either. I've run into him plenty of times being that he's a friend of some newish friends of mine. We've been casually introduced but he said he didn't remember.
I was at the party in a chatterbox mood. I'd run into that friend of a friend and I forgot for a min that musicians can be sensitive when I mentioned his resemblance to Leisure Suit Larry at that show (btw, does no one else but me and a handful of kids my age remember that? Is it one of those things that unless you're an '80s baby, you've got no clue?). He wasn't really amused and asked my feedback on costuming. My constructive criticism skills have been waning since Wes times because I know what I like and what I hate but I just don't care enough to be helpful in my old age. I was also on some ADD shit. Oh hey, it's The DJ! Chatter, chatter, chatter. Oh hey, friends of The DJ I met last week...chatter, chatter. What can I say? I was in a good mood. I'd taken a sick day and I was relaxed for the first time in too long. The fact I had a drink of my own making (read: more like paint thinner than a regular drink) at home didn't hurt much.
I found myself jumping into a convo about that artist I love to hate...no, the other one. I totally went off and mentioned having a blog in the middle of my tangent. Suddenly, he gave me a funny look and said: "I know who you are!" I went into "deny, deny, deny" mode with "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Your AIM name is Jamirakid, right?" "No."
"You've got a South Park character on your page..." "No..."
"Your blog is all color and black and white..." "Uh...no. What does that even mean? You're giving me a headache."
"You blog a lot about the shows you go to and Prefuse..." "I do not blog about shows I go to, Prefuse maybe...uhh, no. You're just wrong!"
"No, I know you. I know exactly who you are...and I know you know exactly who I am. I just can't remember your blog name...tell me what it is?"
"Okay dammit, fine...maybe you do know. I know who the hell you are too."
And then he told me how he made the connection between where we originally came across each other (definitely not as terrible as my crypticness is making it sound. It's really not that serious. It has a lot to do with the last time I was outed actually.) and blogger me by stumbling onto the old version of KP. BTW, can I go back to being semi-under the radar and not giving a fuck again? This was actually a funny story but I've edited it to be as bloodless as possible to cover my own ass a bit. Just look at the tone change between outing #1 and #2. Regardless, just imagine me yesterday squirming and being totally unconvincing in my denials, while pacing back and forth like a caged tiger. It was a total farce, but great for a laugh once I finally fessed up. He said that he's a music blog escapee and now I want a URL (natch), so I can be a nerd and we can be on the same playing field at least. He even urged me to write this up. Good thing because my sidebar was in an unsightly place and I've been too lazy to write lately. (Oh, don't let that last post fool you. I'm not the slightest brokenhearted. That was putting down a lame horse.) But cheers to him (sorta) for amusingly blowing up my spot, not so much for promising not to mention it with a "who would I tell?" and dropping bits to almost everyone. He did turn me on to Google having an SMS search and a new place (mmm...regional Carolina sauces...) to go this weekend when Ant and I are on our eating our way through the hood tour.
He's cool enough for a non-collect call responding punk (bitter? me? never...ah just kidding. It was hilarious and random fun) and it helped the night stay interesting at least. The DJ rerevealed himself to be sniffer and I think I'm gonna find better things to do having learned a little something from the Farmer episodes. All in all, typical misadventure.