The
ESO Dinner!
This year’s ESO Dinner
took place at Uncle Julio’s. I was not familiar with Uncle Julio’s
, but the best case scenario was that it would be a new and exciting
dining experience. The worst case scenario was that it would be
miserable and terrible and I would spend the rest of the night in the
bathroom in my room disposing of Uncle Julio’s cuisine out of both
ends and would have another excellent
post about a nightmarish dining experience.
Unfortunately this one
landed somewhere in the middle.
Side Note: I tried to be
much more aggressive about taking pictures over the weekend, but
there were still things I failed to capture – the massive Men’s
Room stall, Uncle Julio’s, Little Pond’s impressive Doctor Five
and Ten costumes. Overall I did a bit better but still fell short of
the sort of visual documentation I feel that you, the Phantomaniacs,
deserve. I promise HeroesCon will be better.
While we waited I chatted
with Anthony Taylor and his tattooed friend and once we got to the
table I sat down across from Mark Maddox, another individual I have
been wanting to have a conversation with for quite some time. I have
to say, being at diner with Anthony and Mark was pretty exciting.
I’ve been on podcasts with both of them and find them to be
interesting guys, but those talks are always specific and
directed. It was going to be cool to just shoot the shit about
whatever.
Or it would have been if
the Loudest Person Ever hadn’t been at our end of the table. Now,
he was not an unpleasant fellow. He was frequently entertaining as a
matter of fact. But I’m not sure there was a time when he was not
talking. So at one end of the table the Loudest Person Ever was
talking about… whatever he was talking about. And at the other end
Director Faber, Judy, Doctor Geek and his wife, the De La Torres, and
several other folks were engaged in pleasant nerd conversation at
normal volumes. I was right in the middle. Almost literally on the
dividing line. I had ended up not quite across from Mark Maddox and
one person over from Anthony Taylor, so the conversation I was
anticipating did not ensue.
Side
Note: I am presenting without comment the fact that one of the
Loudest Person Ever's topics of conversation was that he was so
concerned about the environment that he considered the amount of fuel
a truck would use to deliver an item when he ordered something
online.
I was, however, across
from a fellow from New Zealand whose name I never picked up. He had
been in the Colin Baker Q&A with us and was a very nice guy. We
chatted through dinner and had a generally good time. I was conscious
of my responsibilities to bring somebody or bodies back to the
Holiday Inn Chambodia after dinner, so I restricted my alcohol intake
to two Miller Lites. That was definitely a good thing.
The staff at Uncle
Julio’s were zealots of pleasantry. I have never been served by a
more aggressively polite staff in my life. If we had been in a movie,
I’m certain it would have turned out they were chopping people up
and serving them to the customers. That’s part of the reason why I
ordered frog legs – there’s no mistaking frog legs for anything
other than frog legs. I also ordered frog legs because I’ve never
had them and I was honestly trying to goad the night into being an
experience a bit on the bad side. It seemed poised to topple and I
thought frog legs might be the factor that tipped it over.
I still don’t know
why, but the wait staff was very pushy with water. They brought me
three even after I told them to stop. So not only was the crack
between our pushed-together tables separating me from the
lower-volume portion of our party, there was a literal wall of water
there. Every once in a while I would peek over it and attempt to
insert a comment into the normal conversation, to no avail. They
couldn’t hear me over the Loudest Person Ever (I do not begrudge
him his vocal intensity – he is a performer and I’m sure it comes
in handy).
My frog legs were a
massive disappointment. There was barely any meat on them, what was
there was difficult to separate from the bones, and they tasted like
fishy chicken. I was highly amused by their little feet, though. I
think something might be wrong with me. Were I in less distinguished
company I would have picked up a pair and done the ol’
Probably best that I
didn’t.
One of the young waiters
– who I feel was likely an aspiring actor – assured me multiple
times the frog legs were awesome. I honestly can’t argue the point
because those were the only frog legs I have ever had. I have no
frame of reference. But I will say that if there are frog legs in the
world that would make the ones I had last Saturday seem
awesome then I do not want them because they must taste like shit. At
one point that waiter stopped behind me and said, “They’re
awesome, right?” and I shrugged and said, “No, not really”. I
think I actually saw his bottom lip pooch out as he walked away.
After I finished the
three ounces of meat that came on my frog legs, I voraciously
devoured the eight beans and twenty-seven pieces of rice that
accompanied my meal. There was also a pile of guacamole, but I don’t
eat things that look like fresh infant shit. I may ingest
fully-footed amphibian legs, but I’m not a lunatic.
After dinner our
vehicular situation changed up a bit and I ended up driving Mark
Maddox, so we had our conversation after all. I made a wrong turn at
one point and we ended up on this poorly-lit road beside I-285. I’m
pretty sure he thought I was going to drive him somewhere and kill
him. Sorry, Mark.
I dropped the artist off
back at the Holiday Inn Chambodia and then went to the nearby gas
station to fill up my car and buy some beer. I really needed beer.
Actually, I really needed liquor, but I didn’t want to spend a
fortune at the hotel.
The gas station was
terrifying. I suppose it was karma for scaring Award-Winning Mark
Maddox. When I walked inside to get my beer, this guy that looked
like a cross between Suge Knight and Geter from Platinum Championship
Wrestling was pointing and talking menacingly at the clerk, who was
very Indian and very angry. Apparently the massive, sweatsuit-wearing
customer thought the clerk had short-changed him and the clerk did
not care. To be clear – the clerk was not contradicting the man. He
was simply telling him to leave. The man was growing understandably
more agitated and just as I thought he was going to reach through the
window and pull the clerk’s little mustache off, he turned around
and stomped out of the store. It was at this point that I noticed
another Indian dude standing in front of the counter, with his hands
on his hips. I realized he was there to provide backup to the clerk.
I looked at him and said, “What were you gonna do?” and he just
shrugged.
I got back to the hotel
and the Grand Hoff and Little Pond were there. I told them where we
had eaten and they both laughed. Those two are fancy-pants food
people that don’t eat at lame places like McDonald’s and The
Cheesecake Factory and while I would mock them for that, they are
typically right about restaurants. I ran back to the room to fetch my
beer bag and stick a mask in my pocket – just in case – and went
back down to chat. I don’t get to see them as much as I’d like,
so it was nice to hang out.
The Masquerade was at
10:30 and it was hosted by none other than the fabulous Lt. Moxie
Magnus, Chief Cosmetologist of the Starship Enterprise (under Captain
James T. Kirk). Moxie was in a variation of Doctor Six’s wacky
costume:
Moxie did a fantastic job
of introducing the contestants and making them feel at ease on the
stage whether they were performing or not. It was a fun show, with an
opening sketch involving pretty much every Doctor at the con. That
was followed by all kinds of different performances from all kinds of
different people. I was kicking myself for not signing up. I still
can’t quite explain why I didn’t. About halfway through Mrs.
Troublemaker called, so I stepped outside to talk. She had been
spending the whole weekend with her family, so I felt bad that she
couldn’t be having fun with me and the Ponds.
By the time I got back in
the Masquerade was over. I sat and chatted with my pals some more and
we talked with various con-goers. Then I remembered a flyer I had
seen in the elevator. It had said that there was a kinky sex party in
room 23, with a furry and a dragon from Honah Lee…
Wait, that’s the wrong
con.
It said there was a room
party in room 44soemthing and that it started at 11:30. It was well
past midnight at this point and I suggested we should go and see what
was happening. I think the Ponds were winding down at that point, but
they accompanied me up anyway. There were two rooms with parties
adjacent to one another. The one on the right side of the fourth
floor hallway seemed empty and quiet, but the one on the left was
chock full of people and liquor. Among those people were none other
than elusive conversationalists Anthony Taylor and Mark Maddox. I
introduced them to Little Pond and the Grand Hoff, who promptly left
to return to their home deep inside the perimeter.
I stuck around and talked
and took some pictures:
Our conversation grew so
nerdy that it pretty much drove off any females in the area. It was
impressive. Eventually I grew tired of yelling over everybody else
and excused myself. It was weird – I wanted there to be music, but
it was already so loud in there you couldn’t hear very well. I make
no sense sometimes.
On the way back to my
room I was distracted by another flyer – this one advertising a
party in room 101. I decided I didn’t have quite enough material
yet and headed out for another room party experience.
I arrived at room 101 and
the door was closed. A sign said to knock loudly because there was
music. I didn’t hear anything. It was a bit creepy. I actually
turned and started walking away, but then I steeled myself and rapped
loudly on the door four times like a Time Lord’s heartbeat. A
little fellow opened the door and invited me in. There were a few
people in there, among them Scaroth:
And Martha Jones:
From earlier in the
evening.
There was music playing
quietly and even a little light system going on. The room had a
king-size bed and a couch and folks were on both. I stood. I talked
to Martha and Scaroth about Doctor Who and various other things for a
while, and then who should show up but the illustrious Dan Carroll!
He joined our conversation, turning it to the subject of Zen and
Indian food. After a while I decided it was time to turn in. Checkout
was at 11 Am and I didn’t want to be scrambling around, trying to
pack everything up.
I should explain here
that I had never been to a room party before. I had no idea what to
expect and was eager to have wacky stuff to write about. But I
suppose these were relatively tame room parties. Fun, but tame. After
I got back to the room I laid out my attire for the next day and
packed all of my bags.
Come back tomorrow for
the final day of TimeGate 2013 and a look at the Vendor Room.
-Phantom
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