Tracks to Clementine

You're so pretty when you're dusting.

So, I recently went to a little pilot-program conference attended by those with similar jobs to mine. A select few: there were about thirty of us from across the country all holed up in the giant arts center of the town where I was born.

It was kinda amazing to be there and focused (and getting paid and sleeping in a king-size bed in a hotel room all to myself...although it made me wonder about arts funding in a new way...) and all, y'know, communal with folk, but it was also kinda a huge pain in the ass. As in: apparently I am afflicted with Girl Who Already Read the Book Syndrome wherever I go. Yep, ASS and GWARBS make for some frustrating times when sitting in a flourescent room with no windows with a bunch of people all talking art and education for twelve hours. (See also that one of the presenting organizations was yet another style-specific group with no sense of irreverance--aka The Baaaaaaaarrrrrrhhhddd...except for that one guy whose actual name, but not quite, was "Guy Cherub.")

Okay, so one of the nights when I'd pretty much had it I went and had dinner by myself at an Italian restaurant near the hotel. I took along some children's lit (that I'll be directing this summer) about five little Jewish girls growing up on the Upper East Side in the early 1900's.

I sat down in the very crowded bar, ordered a gin and tonic and started reading. (Such sweet elixir did I then partake.) I was wedged between two people and across from three others, but it didn't prevent my enjoyment of manicotti and a nice red wine...and continued reading of said literature. Every once in awhile I'd look up because, duh, I have ASS and because I like making up conversations for the people around me (a la Harriet the Spy...though she drank egg creams). I kept catching the eye of this one sweatered-dude, but figured it was just conincidence.

Nope. Eventually he came up to me and said "So, I've got to know: what book is keeping you so engrossed in such a crowded place?" I showed him the cover of the book and told him the title. He wasn't swayed at all. Apparently, reading children's books in a crowded bar all by yourself is HOTT.

He left and I continued reading and eating. After awhile, the server brought me another glass of wine: "from the gentleman in the corner."

Uh oh.

Okay, now, to be fair, I've noticed that such drink offerings are far more common in places not Our Fair City. And often it's just being nice. But, hmmm. Also, that glass of wine would make for three glasses of wine plus that gin-and-tonic. I let it sit there and continued reading. (Except for some quick text messaging to appropriate folk.)

After awhile sweater man came over, with his coat on. I thanked him for the wine.

SM: Oh, I just wanted to apologize for bothering you earlier.

Ida: Oh, well, that's all right.

SM: So, I'm here for a dental convention...

Uh oh.

Turns out that he'd been lecturing on laser maxillofacial surgery. And had the guy who provided the lasers with him. Just as I'd decided that didn't sound as leer-worthy as it seemed, he came out with this:

SM: Were you ever a dancer? Because I really noticed your hands and neck.

Alarum.

After he left, I ate an ENORMOUS piece of cake and drank the glass of wine. Back in my hotel room, my watching of Law and Order: SVU was much enhanced.

Posted by Ida at January 31, 2006 04:21 PM