Only of Larpies interest

[essentialsaltes]

For the poor people on my friends list who no doubt have had quite enough of this Larpies crap, I will restrict myself to posting Larpy-relevant material in comments to this thread. At least until the wrap-up post.

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[essentialsaltes.livejournal.com]

Joe Valenti is Two-Bit Jerkwater Fuck-Up Git.

The drunken Aaron/Kevin duo worked on me until I actually left a fine dinner party scandalously early for the promise of entertainment at the Larpies pre-party. There it was, on the schedule, 9 PM at the HIghlands Hollywood Nightclub.
Becca dropped me off at the hotel, where I had been informed the pre-pre-party was swinging. There were indeed Larpers there, but Aaron and Kevin were nowhere to be found. Luckily, Kirsten was there to let me know that the two gents were settling a bet. Kevin bet Aaron that he (Aaron) would not run down a full block of Hollywood Boulevard sidewalk waving big foam swords in each hand. Since they both had been doing nothing but drinking for several hours, Kevin was doomed to lose this bet. Aaron, as I heard the story, sprang into action, the pedestrians parting like the Red Sea for a boffer-maniac Moses. Until he was accosted by Zorro and Jack Sparrow. Some sword play took place and I'm sure Aaron could have taken them both, but one arm was suddenly hindered by webbing. Spiderman had entered the fray. Zorro dispatched Aaron swiftly, but as it was all in fun, I assume Aaron started screaming and running down the sidewalk again. He went on to assault a stormtrooper taking a picture with some tourists, thwapping the agent of the Imperial Forces on the head with his foamy death-dealer. There was apparently quite the altercation, with the stormtrooper using some very unfamily-friendly language as he chased Aaron down the sidewalk.
Eventually, the victorious (?) Aaron returned to the hotel. Meanwhile, I had meeted and greeted the other dozen or so Larpers hanging about the hotel. Perfectly fine folk... most of the local. I even met nathan_h (the UKian mentioned above) and we chatted for a considerable time. And I met the infamous Joe Valenti in the flesh for the first time.
Kevin bought me the drink he owed me (for coming) and Joe went off to see about the club.
The little Enigma-nucleus went off in search of foodstuffs. During which I learned the full story of the interview debacle. Kevin and Aaron had showed up around 3 or 4 in the afternoon and, I suppose in preparation for their attack on the streets of Hollywood, eventually got tired of waiting around for nothing and stormed the interview room with foamy weapons in hand. They broke in and kicked some ass and broke the seal on the minibar, consuming some cookies. They also found obishawn inside, but it appeared that all interviewing activities had been completed for the day. It was over, no more. Presumably they got the important people like Ford and Lil Maxso, but not even obishawn (who had made it to the inner sanctum of interviewingness) had managed to get interviewed. Much less the Boffered Cookie Rustlers. The 'producers' weren't ready at 10 and they weren't ready at 4. They weren't really ready ever.
This flashback over, we returned to the hotel right around 9-ish, I think. There were a few fewer Larpers left in this war of attrition, but we socialized and formed strong bonds of interLarpy amity. Occasionally, Ira would call Joe to find out what was going on.
It takes a very short time to write this, but it took a very long time to discover this and endure the discovery thereof. It appears that the Highlands club had never heard of any Larpyness, and it transpired that no libations or potations were to be forthcoming from that quarter. Joe returned at some point. He is clearly a fairly useless excrescence who could not possibly enjoy my goodwill no matter how many free drinks he bought me. In this case, the number was one, which was a Newky Brown Ale because the FUCKING RENAISSANCE HOLLYWOOD HOTEL was OUT of GUINNESS. I will never stay there again. That knocks at least a star off, that does.
I would like to shake Joe like a rat and point to nathan_h and say, "That poor unemployed sod somehow scraped up the money to fly himself and his wife(?) from the UK to LA because he thought 'it could be a unique opportunity and good for networking / career prospects.' You, Joe Valenti, are a very bad man."