I went down and checked in at SFContario, got our information packets, and snagged a con-produced restaurant list. Back in the room, I realized that I probably should somewhere to eat that night. Mom wanted salmon, which helped to narrow down the choices nicely.
Casey’s Bar and Grill looked promising, so I found some reviews online. One of them was unexpectedly hilarious. This woman and a few of her friends went to Casey’s, and the waiter messed up the order and brought one of them food that had not been asked for. They were not amused. Then:
“3. The make-up: After we had finished our meal and watched our friend eat his, a gentleman came over and asked if we wanted dessert. We said no thank you. He asked if we were sure. We again repeated the no. He then said, “even if it’s on me?” We all paused and then agreed to the dessert. After he left and we all exchanged stories, I realize that we all paused for the same reason. From the way he asked the question, it sounded extremely sexual and freaked all of us out. When he came back, we had one piece of cake..to share amongst each other. Normally that would’ve been okay, but we were all going to our respective houses.
4. Awkward moment: After we were sexually solicited with cake, Andre came back over to ask us if we spoke to Alejandro, the manager. We realized that that was his name (he never introduced himself). He asked us if we didn’t mind telling him what Alejandro wanted. He seemed visibly relieved that he offered us cake. Maybe Andre had thought he would’ve been fired. We weren’t sure since by then, we just wanted to get out of there.”
We decided that being sexually propositioned with cake sounded like our kind of evening, and that none of the reviewers had a problem with the actual food being served (no food poisoning, bugs or fingers in the salad, etc), so we went. The salmon was good, but a bit too strongly flavored for us. For dessert, Mom ordered the mini dessert nachos, and after tasting that fried, caramelly goodness we decided that we’d have to come back and order the full plate.
We went to the opening ceremony, and snagged seats in the second row. I can’t remember how it happened, but I got into a “don’t diss math” discussion with a con volunteer, Anton, who was sitting next to me and another volunteer whose name I can’t remember who was sitting in front of him. It might have come about because Karl Schroeder, who was sitting in front of Mom, informed us that he hadn’t done well at all in high school math. Then, when he went up to the stage to introduce himself, one of the con organizers stuck a fuzzy in his vacated seat.
The filk guest, Toyboat, performed a song for us, but they could have benefited from a more extensive sound check. One of the guitars (or maybe the bass, I wasn’t paying attention) was much louder than all of the other instruments, even the electric drums.
After that, we went back to the room and I think this was around the time that Brother’s roommate’s mother decided that Brother had become a walking petri dish of disease who was going to get the whole hallway sick, and as a consequence, for the good of the college, Mom had to make Dad drive up to MA right now and remove Brother from the university premises for the good of all humanity. Or something. Roommate’s mother exhibited an almost fully developed inability to listen to reason, because not only did she discount the fact that brother had been going to the student health center for the past week and, if he’d really been dangerously contagious, they would have removed him for the good of all humanity, but also that Mom was in another freaking country, and as a result no, she really can’t answer her bloody phone. At one point, roommate’s mother was calling Mom every fifteen minutes, despite the fact that Mom had told her to use email (the hotel had free wifi).
That particular saga continued over the entire weekend.