So we dragged along our copy of The Pains, to collect another in the set of signatures of people somewhat responsible for its actual appearance.
"What should I write?" asked Kellnerin.
"Whatever you want." I told her.
So, she wrote this:
I think everybody had a good time. It's a pretty low-key bunch of folks. I counted ten: ad hoc (thanks, man, for picking yet another wonderful restaurant), infinitera and his wife (who has a nick here on husi, but i forget... bon vivant, perhaps?), gpig and his partner, toxicfur and me, aethucyn, Kellnerin, and the ever cheerful D.
K pointed out when they arrived that all the foreign-born people were on one side of the table. We reserved for "about eight" and they set 14 places. I guess Saturday afternoons aren't their rush hour. You might think MIT undergrads, many of whom live in the neighborhood (near the Harvard Club, so they can walk across the Harvard Bridge to MIT) would be staggering out of bed at the crack of 1pm on a Saturday, to stumble in for that first curry of the weekend. But you'd be wrong.
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