Author Topic: So...  (Read 4117 times)

MattMason

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So...
« on: August 09, 2009, 11:07:53 PM »
...anything good happen at Nationals?

Tell me a story.
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tabannon

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Re: So...
« Reply #1 on: August 12, 2009, 09:41:06 AM »
Kalamazoo had three rookie poets who made roughly 300 best friends they will be seeing at least once a year for the foreseeable future. For me, that is one of the best stories of the week.

I also had a dream last night that Kalamazoo won NPS 2010.
Todd Bannon

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johnmiller37

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Re: So...
« Reply #2 on: August 12, 2009, 02:05:12 PM »
The Nupic was awsome...it was the way poetry used to be...no mic no judges ....just the crowd, your voice,, your words..I hope we keep this going
I wish I could be just write for you

edaniel

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Re: So...
« Reply #3 on: August 12, 2009, 04:15:17 PM »
I broke two personal records, most work and least sleep.

Stefan Sencerz

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Re: So...
« Reply #4 on: August 12, 2009, 05:15:47 PM »
I got sick (sorethroat) during the trip to WPB.

Despite of it, I had a blast.

Much of it, because of great work by Erik, Billy Mac, and the rest of volunteers.

Casandra

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Re: So...
« Reply #5 on: August 12, 2009, 11:32:25 PM »
Just getting over a little cold...

ok, a story I haven't told anyone but a few:
So, I'm 'coordinating volunteers' like mad.  Running in and out of venues, checking in, answering questions, delivering pats on back, etc.  One of my Venue Coordinators (Amy Steinberg) looks at me in between bouts, pale and concerned: "I have to eat something.  Can I go get a slice of pizza?"  I'm thinking "What, are you crazy?! You can't LEAVE!!!" but instead I say: "I'll get you pizza.  Wait here, I'll be right back."

I run a block to Pizza Luna, and hastily gasp: "Two slices, cheese. Vitamin water."  The adorable server rushes to throw two slices in the oven.

And then, we wait....

He stands behind the counter, peers at me, and asks: "Do you have two minutes?"
I'm thinking, WHAT?!
He reaches out a hand over the counter "Come." He says. "Come make a pizza. Two minutes.  Make a pizza."

My first reaction is: oh, great.  Now someone else wants me to do work I can't get paid for.  This blows.
My second reaction is: OH.  He's HITTING ON ME.  Clever.

I put him off.  "I'm VERY BUSY," I say, handing him my credit card.  "I'm working right now.  I'll come back some other time and make a pizza with you."
He swipes my card in one fluid movement while muttering "Liar."

I take my pizza's, throw more "I'm sorry"s over the counter and run back to Amy.  She'll probably never know that I turned down a Turkish hottie to get her dinner.  Everybody know: Turkish people make the best pizza in South Florida.  Who better to make a pizza with?

jesster

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Re: So...
« Reply #6 on: August 13, 2009, 12:53:29 AM »
Another pizza story:

At the pizza place two doors down from O'Shea's, Our team member, Josh, got a small personal pizza to go. The rest of us saw this and and thought this would be a great idea, so we headed over there and Josh sat down and ate his pizza while we ordered.  I saw a short, bald man run outside, talk frantically at Josh, and set down silverware in front of him on the table cloth in an angry fashion. After he went inside, I went out and asked what happened. Josh had a shell shocked look on his face and said, "I guess he didn't like me eating with my hands. I'm not sure."

As we waited for the other pizza, Josh offered me his last slice.  I took it and decided to walk down the street rather than deal with baldy coming out and yelling about eating with our hands.  When I returned, my team members were sitting down eating their pizza from a box on the outside table.  I didn't see that the tablecloth was now missing.

Apparently, Mr. Bald came out yelling that when they got a pizza to go, they needed to go (even though they didn't get it to go, it just was given to them in a box). He yelled, saying that this time they could stay, but they needed to know that wasn't right. Then, like a trained magician, he whipped the tablecloth out from under the pizza and stormed inside.

We ate at Pizza Luna for the rest of the week, instead.

-Jesster

Scott Woods

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Re: So...
« Reply #7 on: August 13, 2009, 07:50:17 AM »
Another pizza story:

At the pizza place two doors down from O'Shea's, Our team member, Josh, got a small personal pizza to go. The rest of us saw this and and thought this would be a great idea, so we headed over there and Josh sat down and ate his pizza while we ordered.  I saw a short, bald man run outside, talk frantically at Josh, and set down silverware in front of him on the table cloth in an angry fashion. After he went inside, I went out and asked what happened. Josh had a shell shocked look on his face and said, "I guess he didn't like me eating with my hands. I'm not sure."

As we waited for the other pizza, Josh offered me his last slice.  I took it and decided to walk down the street rather than deal with baldy coming out and yelling about eating with our hands.  When I returned, my team members were sitting down eating their pizza from a box on the outside table.  I didn't see that the tablecloth was now missing.

Apparently, Mr. Bald came out yelling that when they got a pizza to go, they needed to go (even though they didn't get it to go, it just was given to them in a box). He yelled, saying that this time they could stay, but they needed to know that wasn't right. Then, like a trained magician, he whipped the tablecloth out from under the pizza and stormed inside.

We ate at Pizza Luna for the rest of the week, instead.

-Jesster

"Mr. Bald" was Marc, and I ate at his place and got awesome service every time.
You guys broke Marco!

Steve

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Re: So...
« Reply #8 on: August 13, 2009, 09:16:39 AM »
Marco took great pride in his wine selection. He knew wines but he didn't have any to sell. Pretty funny. He did a competent job of substituting and knocking prices down if you ate at the Italian Restaurant. I got a kick out of him.

(But I can totally see his Italian hot-head nature whipping that table cloth off the table. HA!)

Ransacked

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Re: So...
« Reply #9 on: August 13, 2009, 04:11:22 PM »
(But I can totally see his Italian hot-head nature whipping that table cloth off the table. HA!)

I was all set to get my ethnic dander up over this insinuation until I realized that I'm not bald. Not one bit.

-Ransacco Vanzetti
 8)

edaniel

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Re: So...
« Reply #10 on: August 14, 2009, 07:45:01 PM »
There was two guys at that place that are follically challenged.  I am convinced that Marco was not the guy in the above anecdote.

Here's why.  On the second night of prelims, I was doing the rounds checking on bouts.  Most of them hadn't started yet, so I was irritated, and trying to scare up some judges for Respectables.  Jaco from Paris runs up and is frantic.  They are trying to set up the projector for their translations, and they can't find anything to project on. 

I walk into the Italian place thinking I would gank their NPS poster to use, when I see Marco folding lovely white tablecloths. Having eaten their twice before, I called him by name, and asked if I could borrow a tablecloth.  He asks, in adorable broken english, "What for?"  I say if for the poetry slam.  He says, "For the poetry? You keep!" and throws me a table cloth.  I handed it off to a very grateful Jaco, and all was right in slamtown.

I ate at that place twice more after that.

The_Klute

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Re: So...
« Reply #11 on: August 14, 2009, 11:55:51 PM »
We ate at Pizza Luna for the rest of the week, instead.

-Jesster

Ah, DiNapoli's.  Used to be called Malsori's.  Rumored* to have been a front for a bookie.  I went in, bought a slice, asked "When did the name change from Malsori's?".  Was told "a couple of years of go".  Asked "Still owned by the same crew?".

"NO. No we are NOT owned by the same crew".   

* - using that term for legal reasons.
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