We Are

Back from our January hiatus, our first hosting this year is our 97th at the club. It is the 97th time the microphone wasn’t ready for me, and I had to fumble through “check-check-check-check-check” for what felt like 20 minutes before launching into my standard “Hello everyone. We aarrre playing trivia tonight”. The batteries ran out in the middle of question round, as always. Pretty standard night. As was hosting 98.

On our 99th hosting we met the club’s new GM, Gustavo. With question round underway, he came over and wanted to take a look at the full set list. “That one is way too easy” he said, pointing at the sitting duck of the night. “Anyone who walks out with a zero in any round is not walking back in next week”, I said with probably a tinge of annoyance that I had to explain my process to someone. He pulled his head back a bit. His eyes went to the screen, then back to me, “oh, is that what this is?”. I gave him a nod, he gave me a fist bump, and he walked back out to the lobby. Yea . . . I think it would be fair to say I liked Gus from the start.

Week 101 was . . . a doozy. My husband usually helps me host. We carry an average of 10 teams per week, and with all the structural details, having a second person keeping an eye on if people put their team names on the answer sheet, or if they ranked correctly, really helps things keep moving. On this particular night, our babysitter was sick and had to cancel on us, which meant, my husband would be staying home with our three year old.

Wanting to stay home with them as long as I could, I drove to the club a bit later on this evening. I got to my table and unpacked my backpack. Fuuuuuuuck. I don’t have my laptop. The bar is packed, inside and out. It was the first day of nice weather of the season so I mean, it was loud in there. I’m 10 minutes from start time and I don’t have any of my material. I was worried if I drove home, I’d lose my spot in the lot and end up being 20 minutes late getting the night started.

In a total tizzy, I let management know I might be starting late – I had to go home and get my materials. Gus offered to drive me so as not to lose my spot. He took me home – we had a pleasant conversation about how trivia has been going. He said it’s gotten so busy they actually started a no-take-out policy on Thursday nights so the kitchen can focus on the guests at the club. That’s pretty cool.

I ran in the house. My laptop wasn’t on the charger. Ugh. It’s in my car, which is now at the club. I run back out and tell Gus. He tells me to check everywhere in the house and I tell him I did. He tries to reason with me, but, long story short, he drops me off at my car and he brings his back down to the employee lot. And as he’s walking up, he sees my car . . . heading back . . . towards my house. The motorized equivalent of the walk of shame. He stands there in the grass, pantomiming the most overexaggerated “WHAT THE HELL” you’ve ever seen. I playfully hide my face in my elbow as I continue home. I grabbed my laptop from my office in the basement, where it should never be, and yet, there it was playing Bluey.

Back at the club, 3 minutes late, parking is a breeze. I hurry past the host stand, not wanting to talk about it. And on my table, the microphone that’s never once been ready at 7:00 PM, is primed and ready to go. As far as the audience knows, it’s the most seamless start to my night. And at a table for one, I calmly get started:

“Alllright guys, weee are gearing up to play trivia tonight so if you're playing,
come on up and grab three answer sheets and a pencil.”

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