September 04, 2007

Do I Have A Twin?

Ok, so a couple weeks ago I went out dancing. This should surprise no one. Then tonight, after class, I showed up at the tail end of this fundraiser that I'd heard about, hoping to run into at least a couple people I knew. (Amazingly, I now know just enough people here for that to have been a reasonable expectation.) The fundraiser turned out to be at a dance club, though they were shutting down when I got there around 9pm, what with the party winding up and it being a Tuesday.

What do these two occasions have in common, other than the nominally related settings? I mean, you're hoping there's a plot here, I know the drill. Here it is ...

Both times, some big, burly, 'how you doin' type dude with the business comes up to me real friendly, gets the hands on the arm and sidles in close to ask if he's seen me somewhere. (I know what you're thinking comes next, but stay with me.) And, oh yeah, aren't I a promoter?

Um, huh? This time, I got comped a drink with a word to the bartender. I hope a ginger ale was the proper thing to ask for under the circumstances.

I get mistaken for a lesbian pretty often, which I find complementary. It's also super hilarious to occasionally have to come out now as someone who dates guys. (Not that there's anything wrong with that.) Seriously, funniest thing ever. Ever. But mistaken for a specific other person? No. That hasn't happened to me in ages, even before I got hold of Teh Bleach.

It seems improbable to me that there's a female promoter running around DC with a chemical blonde buzzcut, who's about my height and build. ('No, man, the other white chick with the brassy crew cut.') The easy substitute explanations are that either this is the hair uniform for female promoters (And I was dressed very plainly tonight in khaki slacks and a short-sleeved brown shirt. I even had the blue backpack, aka, my portable geek kit and mobile office, hardly a flamboyant fashion accessory.) or 'aren't you a promoter' is the new 'how you doin'?' for big, burly club manager types.

I'm truly, truly baffled by this. I hope to gods that it was just sheer, random weirdness, never to be repeated. Because really, I just don't want to know why it happened. Twice.

On the other hand, maybe I should look into becoming a promoter. I bet it pays better than blogging, and apparently I could pass.

Updated: Wanted to note that I responded with a no, immediately, both times. The drink is inexplicable.

Posted by natasha at September 4, 2007 10:47 PM | Random Mumblings | Technorati links |
Comments