Last night was the second installment of Playwrights Pub Nite, our every-three-month slow-motion pub crawl where playwrights get to meet, hang out, drink beer, catch up and have conversations where you don’t have to stop and explain who Brecht is.
For reasons that I no longer remember but that I think had to do with most plays running on Thursday, Friday and Saturday, we had this one on a Wednesday, which meant that a few people were unable to make it because they either had work conflicts or are big-shot writers for Killing My Lobster and had a meeting.
But plenty still came, and the mellow environs of The Bitter End were a great complement to the evening. I got a chance to finally meet Octavio Solis, who may be the coolest guy ever. Super-friendly and interested in anyone and everyone. It was great to talk to him.
And of course, Marisela was there, Erin Bregman biked in, and even M and our housemate Jeff, who still owes me for the beers I bought him. (His trick is, he buys the first round, then suggests you open a tab, then disappears to buy a fish from a nearby fish store when the bill comes. Luckily, I know where he lives.)
Next time will be in another part of town, quite possibly on a Saturday again, probably in August. So block out every Saturday for the next four months, just to be sure you can make it. And if you are a playwright and want to be invited, don’t be shy. Email Marisela with the secret code, “I like beer; put me on the list.”