Kisses, Coronas, and clowns
Loud Pushy Frank still gives pretty much the best bone-crusher hugs of all time. Some things, fortunately, do not change. Margarita is still gorgeous in a cute summery dress, so it seems only appropriate to give Frank a little bit of a hard time about his dressed-down look, featuring a white t-shirt and a Cubs hat, of all things. "Hey," I say to him, "where's your pimp shirt?" I put my hand on his navel, approximately. "You're usually all unbuttoned down to here. What's your deal?" He grins. "I don't know, it's summer," he says. Feh. Yeah, because you can only display your entire torso in December, I suppose. He asks me who I'm rooting for. "I think I don't care," I say. We talk a little about teams, and I mention that I kind of like Jon and Kelly, even though they're mean. "It's hard for me to say I don't like them just because they, you know, say mean things about people," I say, laughing a little. "When you make your living doing it," he laughs back. "Well, right."
I see Flo and Zach as they're on their way in. I talk to her first. We exchange pretend-nice "Hey"s, and I ask her what she's up to. Working at Glamour, she tells me, and then I remember that I had heard that. To her credit, she maintains a considerably more smiley, upbeat vibe than I think she had at the end of her own season. Zach is just behind her. "Hey, thanks for coming," I tell him. "Oh. Hey, this is the only place left where anybody cares about us," he laughs. I love him a little for this comment.
AirSteve is standing by the nametag table talking to pseudostudent when I walk up. I start to introduce myself. "I know who you are, you troublemaker." He gives me a hug. Aww. Then he says, "Wait, wait -- I got something for you." He then repeats the horrifying head-waggle of the overnight car ride. Hee. Scarred me for life again. He also shows me his "list." These are the people he is determined to meet. I worry for them.