So, tonight's the night a bunch of guys with smashed noses, bad haircuts, and all manner of facial scars squeeze into ill-fitting tuxedos and entertain Atlanta's fat and drunk nouveau riche at a fake casino in a terrible nightclub.
Much as I'd like to gaze into the Czar's eyes tonight (by the way, his tuxedo is always perfectly cut and his haircut is more or less a good one), and as close I live to the Opera nightclub (I believe Monsieur has experience in the trenches there; he's not a fan), I won't be joining in. Too expensive, and besides, the tables of the players I actually like will be swamped, and I don't really want to spend the evening drinking gin-and-tonics with Rich Peverley.
In theory, I could hang around outside the building and high-five Eric Boulton and Garnet Exelby as they walk in, but for some reason I just can't work up the motivation to walk over.
So, will any of you readers be attending? I wonder if they'll make people sign a waiver upon entrance that prohibits them from asking "So why do you suck so much?"
Sunday, January 11, 2009
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