Skip to content

Poker Night – 9pm – Dangerhouse

Date: Thu, 20 Sep 2007 19:51:50 -0400
From: “Matt”
To: poker-night
Subject: Poker Night – 9pm – Dangerhouse

Once upon a time, like last week or so, there was a man named Bob, who was a
Nihilist and would have believed in nothing were he to believe in anything
at all. To make a long introduction involving his growing up, going to
school, studying, and getting a job relatively short, he met an Evangelical
Fundamentalist Pagan named Sue. Now Sue, far from believing in nothing,
believed in lots of things. Many of these things violated important physical
laws such as the first, second, and occasionally third laws of entropy. You
know the sort of things I’m talking about, summoning Maxwell’s daemons and
auroras and those goofy crystals that are going to make you feel better if
you sleep with one of them under your pillow every night. Especially that
last one, which I’ve been doing for weeks, and for the shear pounds of
quartz I have under my pillow, I still can’t get out of bed in the morning
before ten. But I am digressing.

Bob and Sue got along like oil and water, which was to say that they seemed
comfortable intermixing in that maintaining your own identity sort of way.
They met on MySpace, where Sue led the Neo-Pagan-gelical Evangelous Boston
meeting group. Admitably, their current project of raising Man-Ray from the
grave was going quite poorly, but the pentagram knitting crafts night was
going swimmingly. They went out for chai a couple of times, found each
other were cute, and it took it from there. Bob thought for a moment that
he might believe in Sue, and Sue thought that Bob might be a reincarnated
avatar of the goddess Inari that she ensnared with a sixth-level love spell
involving goat’s blood she bought at Harvest. Or at least, she reasoned,
he’s better looking than that awful Crowley-Thoth theist she was dating last
month and all his “Love is the Law, baby,” bullshit.

However, sadly unknown to them both, they were going nowhere. Much like this
story. Wow, man, I’m sorry.

…I really lack the ability to continue this farce of clever poker email
writing tonight. We all see through this for what it is, a thinly veiled cry
for human contact. Click click. That was funny. Wonder why you and I are
sitting in front of these computers so alone right now. So alone. This,
this story, this invitation, Bob & Sue, all this, is going nowhere.

You however are going to Poker Night!

( which our marketing department really encourages us to further brand as:
“A fun-filled activity night somewhere in the gray zone between pure
magic and exhilarating nothing!”(tm) and
“Better than Mohegan Sun on crack, or at least the morning
after…”(tm) )

Poker Night
XX Xxxxxxxxx Xx.
Somerville, MA
The hand that shall be first shall be at the hour of nines.

PS. Our diversity lawyers really encourage me to add:
“Apologies to my pagan friends for any perceived religious insensitivity.
Really, ask anyone, I find goth girls totally hot.”

Post a Comment

Your email is never published nor shared. Required fields are marked *