Eight
There are a lot of things in life that I have trouble with. Finding my way to Phil is not one of them. I strategically maneuver into the general vicinity, and then I get over there to say hi. He's having a discussion about wardrobe. Heh. "Yeah, I did hear there was a sweater I was supposed to burn," he says. Several of us standing nearby explain that the greatest source of controversy was the red and white candy-stripe sweater. This makes him nod slowly. I'm not sure he liked that sweater either. I then tell him that the other one was the bulky white one that I said made his head look like a boiled egg in a cup. This gets an actual laugh. Yay, sweater jokes! He asks me about TWoP and about the staff, and he says, "You must do this full-time." I shake my head. "No, no. Not the people who write the recaps. In my regular life, I have a regular job." He looks shocked. "You must be up in the middle of the night." Hmmm -- compliment, or accusation of insanity? It's a fine line, indeed.
After we've been yapping for a while, he says, "I want to talk to you. Come over here." Now, imagine, if you will, "I want to talk to you" in the Phil accent. Are you getting my point? Ah, yes, it was lovely. So we go over and sit on a bench in the corner and yap. Very pleasant. Show, site, blah dee blah. Quality time with Phil is excellent. At this point, I become aware of someone coming up on my right, preparing to sit down next to me. Who is this interloper, I wonder, who cannot tell that I am trying to have a conversation? I start to turn, fully prepared to unleash my nastiest WHAT-DO-YOU-WANT? glare, and then I see that it's Sars. Heh. "Sorry to interrupt," she says, plunking down beside me. "Privilege of the job." Thirty seconds later, the door having been flung open, there are about twelve people within six feet of me and Phil. So much for quality time. ["Oh, boo hoo. Heh." -- Sars]
Later on, as I am conducting a debriefing with Zron and JudyZ, he mentions the Phil talk. "I want you to know, there were a lot of very curious women over here. They were all, 'They're over there talking! Their knees are touching!'" I make it clear that of course I had no idea about the knee thing. And then I am struck by lightning. Oh, no. But I should be.
Nine
"You really are my favorite," I tell Kevin, dropping an arm around him.
"The truth comes out at last," he says. "At last."
Ten
"If Kevin tells you I told him he was my favorite? He's totally lying," I tell Brennan.
"I would never have believed it for a minute," he says.