This is one of a multitude of reasons why I love my wife:
ME: It looks like everyone’s too sick to go out but us.
MRS: OK.
ME: So, we have to meet this guy at the Disney Swan.
MRS: Who?
ME: GeekMan.
MRS: What’s his real name?
ME: Um, I don’t know.
MRS: Do you know what he looks like?
ME: Um, no.
MRS: Well, where are we going to eat?
ME: Um, I don’t know.
MRS: So, I’m supposed to get in a car with you, drive 45 minutes to a hotel that’s the size of Montana, and wander the lobby asking people if they’re GeekMan? Then, drive around South Orlando looking for a place to eat?
ME: Um, yeah.
MRS: Alright then.
Yes, ladies and gentlemen, two powerful forces for geekdom–Solonor and The Mighty Geek–met, in-person, for the first time ever. Admit it, you felt the Earth tremble, didn’t you? It was a smashing success. Let’s recap, shall we?
As outlined above, The Mighty Geek arrived in Orlando on stop number two of his Lack-of-Sleep World Tour 2003. We had arranged a meeting with other prominent Floridians, but apparently we are the only ones in the state left unravaged by disease or overwork. Thus, we were alone to welcome GeekMan to the Sunshine State. Yes, the same state that felt temperatures cold enough to convert dihydrous oxide to its solid form.
It was frickin’ freezing, Mr. Bigglesworth.
Undaunted, the Mrs and I headed down to the hotel to pick up our date. As he was staying at the Disney Swan, that’s where we went. (Normally, I am scared of buildings with gigantic birds on their roof, but this is Disney. There are more important things to be frightened of there.) I was immediately struck by the sheer size and majesty of the building–and by the fact that I was going to have to run through the lobby saying, “Excuse me? Have you seen GeekMan? Tell me, is The Mighty Geek here?”
Fortunately, he was there a-waiting for me.
Fortunately, he kinda looks like his caricature.
Fortunately, the lobby was empty.
Now, I’m not saying that G (That’s short for “GeekMan”. We’re tight now, so we can use his nickname. Jealous?) has no common sense, but if a strange couple met you at a hotel and offered to drive you around town looking for meal handouts, would you just hop in the car and say, “Cool”? Yet, that is what transpired. No dinner reservations. No preferred cuisine. So, we drove around Orlando with only the vague idea that we wanted meat. Yeah, we’re planners like that.
We wound up at Kobe Japanese Steak House on International Drive, because it had been burning a hole in my brain for the last couple of days–and because I got lost and wound up on I-drive (the worst, most tourist-ridden stretch of pavement besides the Epcot parking lot). Oh, yeah, and being starved helped…
G: You guys like Spanish?
Me: Sure! Mexican?
G: Yeah, let’s look for a Mexican place.
Mrs: Hey, there’s Kobe…
All: Japanese, it is!
Kobe was the perfect choice. It was great fun: a talented chef, mountains of food, and a trio of rum-swillin’ party girls (“Yum, Yum”). We got to talk about the history of G and to delve into his tortured psyche. We even got to see a picture of his lovely fiancee.
Now, a special message for HoBiscuit: Run. Run very fast. You’re young and beautiful. You can do better than this. Quickly, while there’s still time.
After dinner, we resorted to the resort for coffee, hot chocolate and one, huge-assed chocolate chip cookie. I tried to keep G on track and stop him from slipping into conversations with the cookie, but Bread kept telling me to shut up.
We laughed. We cried. We coveted Mary, Queen of the Universe swag. We laughed some more. We threatened to drop him off on a dark stretch of road if he didn’t stop telling bad jokes…
Yes, I have seen the true face of geekdom, and now, darn it, I want his face on my chest.
Kill me.