Right off the bat: I'm not one of those people who gets on the Internet to go out and meet new peeps. I've watched enough Montel and Maury to know that meeting strangers that you only correspond with via the computer and the massive web known as the Internet will result in unwanted pregnancies or murder.
Neither is on my wish list at the moment.
So, what the hell does one do when you are presented with an invitation to go out and have beers with someone that you know through diaryland?
Well, shit. You take the person up on the invite.
You also call one of your best friends from home and say, "Listen, if I don't call you tomorrow morning, it's because my body has been tossed into a ravine. If this is the case go to this URL because she most likely wrote about my demise in her latest entry."
You then hang up the phone before your friend says, "Meeting someone you met on the Internet? Are you CRAZY?"
You have to understand. I've been couped up in a hospital room for several days now. I've watched all the reruns of Mamma's House that I can stand. They're actually becoming amusing to me. I had to take a break and Tuesday night was my only window of opportunity.
Come on, a gal can have a sick sibling in the hospital and still wanna get a nice beer buzz can't she?
DON'T JUDGE ME.
What surprised me most is how nervous I was. It may come as a surprise to some of you, but I'm actually a bit on the shy, introverted side when stranger contact is involved. I tried to make my hair somewhat presentable and put on my 'stranger meetin' terry cloth shirt.
We had arranged for me to be picked up at 8PM on Sunday night as I would not be around a phone until later on Tuesday.
8:36 PM Tuesday night. I'm still standing outside the boarding house I sleep at and have looked at every passing car. Maybe one will be the notorious Rudey. Instead, it seemed as if all were the notorious Asian population of Minneapolis.
That's when I called. "I am presently twisting on the distributor cap of my car... I think it's out of oil.. I'll be there in 10.. no...15... no you're only 2 miles away... 10 minutes. Maybe 15."
I said, "Okay. Cool." and hung up the phone and went back outside to the plesant conversation I was having about GMC trucks and basic training camp I was having with one of my fellow borders.
"You're friend isn't showing up." He said.
"Oh, no.. you don't understand. We went to college together for a semester and then she transferred. I haven't seen her in almost 6 years, so... yeah.. she'll show." I had to lie. I didn't want to go into the entire "I have a journal on line where I'll most likely recount this conversation and talk about pussy" thing as I didn't have the time and was running out of cigarettes that he habitually bummed from me.
Finally, a car pulls up and a face pokes from the front.
Could this be her?
She slammed the car door behind her, piece of paper in hand. As she walked towards the building I did my best job to come across as Ladeeleroy.... but she didn't seem to recognize me...
"Uh, Kehla?" I said.
"Hey, long time no see." I said as I initiated and embrace, trying to keep up with the ol' college friend lie I had just used while making an interesting first impression.
And that's how my first meeting with a stranger from the Internet started.
Fast forward about 3 hours, 2 pitchers of beer, and a pack of smokes later.
"Carolyn Keene is a man."
"Yep. The author of Nancy Drew is a dude."
How the hell did she know this? I all of a sudden felt so dirty. So used. So betrayed by the Drewster.
Other things I learned in my evening out with Rudey.:
Overall, it was a funtastic time. It was educational and entertaining. Edutainment at it's finest.
And, if you're a reader of Rudey, she is just as cool in person as she is in the journal. If you invite her to come and visit you, make sure you have a couch available and a pack of smokes in hand. Good times shall ensue.
Okay. The bro stirs. I must depart.