On Sunday, I met another Quoran IRL for the first time.
Was it Dimitra Triantafyllidou?
Noooo… I don’t live in Greece, I just sometimes act like it.
Was it Michael Masiello?
… Nooo, despite Gigi J Wolf’s best efforts, I do not live in the US (let alone the OC), I live in Australia.
Was it Lyonel Perabo?
… Wha? No, PAY ATTENTION. Australia. I live in Australia.
… Was it Tracey Bryan?
*facedesk* Fictive Quoran Interlocutor, you are getting on my goat. MELBIN, Australia. Mel-boooourne. Melbourne. Not Brisvegas. Melbourne
Was it David Stewart?
… Nah. Not seeing it. But at least you’ve got the right city now.
Was it Miguel Paraz?
Well, he probably works two blocks from me, but I did say to him once that I promised to ignore him. I think I meant it as a joke. Miguel! It was a joke! And my pen was running out of ink! (Sorry to you too, Trace.)
Was it Brian Collins?
You’re getting warmer, Fictive Quoran Interlocutor, but Brian hasn’t moved here yet. Brian! Move over here already!
… So who was it?
I rejoice that you have asked, Fictive Quoran Interlocutor. It was a most felicitous happenstance: I approached this Quoran about his non-work–related content, and it has turned out since that we have day-job business together, which was bringing him into the country next door.
And so it was that I met, direct from the frozen wastes of Nunavut, via the only slightly less frozen wastes of Toronto, the Dispenser of one-line fortune cookie wisdom, the Scourge of the Mountain View Mensa,
That figures, you Jimmy Liu-loving reprobate…
What the hell, Fictive Quoran Interlocutor!
… Hang on. Adam DiCaprio, is that you?
I can neither deny nor asseverate that this is how we spent our Sunday lunch:
It was ace fun, Scott. And you’ve got a very slickly engineered system in Edsby! Looking forward to more, and safe flight home!