
AltFanThingieCon 2000 began in the only logical place such an event can possibly begin.
In the pub.
Reg and I kicked off proceedings on Friday night (Thursday night/Friday morning for most of you) at the pub, sinking pints and catching up. We then straggled back to chez Tree and did the ritual book swap... "Ooooh, I found a copy of this and thought you would really enjoy it and I have a couple more by him if you do..."
My sucky workplace chose to do a server upgrade that weekend, so the next day Reg and I were forced into the inhospitable environment of the local internet café. The usual madness ensued, much chatting, much silliness and much fun.
There are heaps of great shops in the area, so we spent the afternoon shopping. No luck finding autographed items this time, but blood was almost shed over a second-hand hardcover edition of 'Fungus the Bogeyman' by Raymond Briggs. Reg nearly had to be sedated before he went berserk with glee at finding a positively ancient Marvelman (Miracleman) schoolboy's annual. Too cheesy for words, but such fun!
Many cool books and comics were purchased to be consumed along with (what turned out to be pretty ordinary) sushi. The bindings were a little difficult to chew, but otherwise a lovely evening was had. Very quiet, only the sound of turning pages breaking the silence.
The next day, we were off to the wilds of Upwey. A brief sojourn in Ringwood on the long train journey out to chez Reg turned up a couple of hard to find goodies that kept us very happy on the rest of the journey. Reg then showed me around Upwey, and two minutes later we were off to his place.
Really, Upwey isn't that bad, after all, it does have Wormhole Books (tragically closed for my visit but I did get to leave a pathetic nose print on the glass as I slavered over the window display) and positive sightings of Frank Zappa after death in the local café.
Further visual interest was had in exploring Reg's current abode. His housemates have 'interesting' taste in décor. However, Reg would not let me see his personal lair, so reports about it cannot at this time be confirmed.
Nair, the psychotic Russian Blue, decided that I was the only person on the face of the earth that she liked, so I spent the rest of the afternoon trying not to sneeze and brushing shed hair off my black outfit.
We became the aus-borg again and took turns in the chatroom that afternoon, trying desperately to remember to change the colour of the text when we swapped. If anyone called you 'sweetie' that afternoon, it could have been either one of us. Again, much fun was had chatting and catching up.
I had to call it quits early, a two-hour train ride home in the dark not appealing too much, so I bid farewell to the thingies and mine host and headed off to the station and home.
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