(Took me long enough.)

Friday came, and we suited up (in my case literally), ate a quick breakfast of donuts and orange juice, then after following some hazy directions that The Jackal gave us, we boarded The T. The ride on the train went without major mishap; while the driver might not have been especially concerned if we arrived at our destination okay, a helpful fellow commuter was, and she pointed us in the right direction before we paid our fare.

Almost right after we arrived, and unveiled the setup, Christian announced that the Dealer’s Room was opening. And his announcement brought a tide of faces with it- new and old.

Some people remembered us from last year. A lot of people seemed to remember me and my tuxedo; but a number of others remembered us for what we were actually there for, like James. (Pictured at left; he’s grown since then, but each time he appears, he only does so briefly, so I haven’t been able to get another picture of him, or even one with him. Next year, I’ll be ready.)

James is quite likely my biggest fan, aside from my mother, who is obligated to be. He appeared within the first 20 minutes of the Dealer’s Room opening (if that long,) told me how much he loved CottonFluff Hollow, voiced his thoughts about the plot direction, and asked for my autograph, which I supplied, along with a hasty sketch.

I’m not always proud of my hasty sketches, but I was working, and like I said, James is somewhat’ ephemeral. Almost right after I gave him his program back, he was gone, but not before I told him to ‘tell everyone that he knew about Sapo Entertainment.’

And wouldn’t you know it; he went and found someone to tell. And brought them back to show me. But as quickly as that happened, he was gone again, and I didn’t see him for the rest of the convention.

On the whole, sales on Friday were brisk; the shirts from The Skin You’re In were very well received; some shirts that we were sure would do well didn’t move nearly as well as some that did.

The Dealer’s Room closed, and we regrouped. We went out with some of our friends from the Dealer’s Room from last year, Alain Viesca among them, and went to dinner at The Black Rose.

Seating was at a bit of a premium, as there was a Boston Red Sox game going on, and it was a Friday night. So, we availed ourselves of the bar several other members of our party enjoyed the well-poured Guinness that the Rose is known for, (Shirley Temples for me), and the wide array of appetizers that the Rose serves.

One order of cheese fries and a plate of curry fries later, we were upstairs. I had a Caesar salad. There was a bit too much dressing, but on the whole, it was nice. The others left shortly after the meal was done, but Sapo, the Jackal, and I hung around and listened to the house band, leaving after a rousing rendition of ‘The Gambler‘ , to the tune of some Irish guitar, no less.

We made our way back to the house, picking up some donuts on the way, and slept.