Annual Dinner + Eleven50 + Nomenclature + Awful Wa

I ask Heather to go to a lot of business
dinners and events. She does a great job
to
make herself available. Once a year she
asks me to go to her company's annual
dinner. It's the fourth time I've made it
to the event and it gets better (and
shorter) every time.

I went skydiving all day and pushed the
limits of chrono-possibility by racing back
to Atlanta to throw on a suit at the last
minute. It was spectacular irony that
Heather was running behind. She got caught
in circus traffic and was mightily
frustrated. (As an aside: two days later I
saw about 100 railway cars filled with
Ringling Bros Barnum & Bailey circus stuff
from my loft window.)

We made it to the event after cocktails,
but
just as dinner was starting. Dinner was a
buffet of the typical event fare.

The awards ceremony sucked as usual. But
it
is getting shorter each year. My man Bill
took some mega-sales honors again. Bill is
the top salesman and for some reason I like
him.

After the annual dinner we went out to the
club Eleven50. Fun club. I talked to the
audio visual guy and convinced him to play
some skydiving videos on the ceiling the
next time I come in.

We then went to Nomenclature, a smaller
club
with a little more personality. I claimed
a
corner of the club and attempted to collect
VIP entrance fees... it didn't work but it
gave me an excuse to talk to the hotties...
er... harass them.

In typical splendid fashion our night ended
at 3:45AM at the always prestigious Waffle
House. Heather and I didn't drive, we took
a cab from the clubs to Waffle House.
Well,
we had planned on heading home, but as we
passed Waffle House Heather flagged the
driver and had him drop us off. Ten
minutes
later she was asleep in the booth with a
plate of food in front of her. The Waffle
House suddenly filled up with a waiting
line
of hungry party people. I was in the
corner
facing them and from their perspective I
was
alone. I got many evil eyes and eventually
one bitch (did I say that?) got the
security
guard to ask me when I was leaving. "When
I'm done," I replied and sent him on his
way. I tipped the waitress $10 on a $10
meal, called a cab and started to wait.
Heather was still out cold in the booth.
Predictably the bitch (again with the
negativity) sent the guard over, but this
time he asked me to leave. I told him to
pound sand and the waitress was with me.

Eventually the cab arrived and we made it
home. Very fun night.