"Glo-Pokes” T-shirts made? Check! [with D’Kid’s help, and materials on sale from AC Moore]
Glowy stuff acquired? Check! [on sale at Party City]
Church attended? Check!
Gear laid out? Check!
Post-race bag packed? Check!
Nap taken? Check!
Contacts with D’Girls and D’Doe established? Check! [Doe may have still be asleep when I called him at 9PM]
Let’s do it!!!
It’s a quick and tumble journey up to I-295 and over the bridge to Lloyd Hall on Boathouse Row. After missing the crucial turn at the Art Museum, [the one I usually take to the back parking lot of the Museum, which was closed anyway, due to construction of a new multi-deck lot – yeah, that will be skated when done] I pulled into the near-vacant lot on Eakins Oval. I double checked the contents of my near-stuffed backpack – I brought all six shirts with me, in case someone might not make it to the post-race pool-party planned for the next day.
I threw my pack over my shoulder, and started walking to Boathouse Row. Opening my phone and calling the number saved from earlier, [“So, what are we doing tonight?”], I felt a rush of excitement and something else … stage fright!!!
Suddenly, it was open mike night, and I had nothing prepared. Maybe that was the point?
Now I knew where the girls were; where was Doe? I called him for the 3rd time … still on his way; the word “bridge” was mentioned. I told him where I parked, and where we would be. The circle was closing. On my way down the bike path, I leapt up and down in joy.
THIS IS SO COOL!!!
As I wandered around looking for my friends, somewhere either in or near the registration desk, I heard my name. I turned and saw a beautiful, glowing face highlighted by brilliant blue eyes and the brightest, happiest smile I’d seen in ages [other than my own, which was stage left, hidden to her in the welcome hug]. She directed me, moderately shell-shocked that my on-line friends were becoming non-holographc, to the number and shirt table.
Maureen noticed first that my number was 645; hers was 646. Since we had all registered in a flurry on that last day, it wasn’t surprising that we’d be close; we hadn’t counted on consequtivity.
The next step was to meet the rest of the “team.”
Maureen took me to the “crash pad” room, where the hardcore slept on their 24 journeys.
Lor-A was not as tall as I expected; Lor-I was. Kelly, Jen and Yi Juin were Kicks-in-Laws, so I had no clue.
Girls gathered; I now needed to find my wingman: Ring-Doe. I told him I’d be out front; he could stash his stuff in my bag check.
Apparently, he walked past as I was glowing up [the sound system allowed practically no verbal communication within 20 yards of any speaker], but we did connect; and we found the girls.
A couple of times.
The pre-race instructions were given [Lor-I, was declared “Most Illuminated” by virtue of her disco glasses which, from her perspective behind them, must have been a torture device straight from “A Clockwork Orange”].
Glo-Pokes assembled, and at midnight, after being treated to Maureen’s voice in a wonderful rendition of “The Star Spangled Banner” [she shined to those nearby, while the PA cut in and out], we were off.
Yeah, a gun or something more than “GO!” would have been nice!
To Part Two >>>
Friday Feature: Working Longer & Loving It
2 days ago