My First Meet & Greet

Being an international blog sensation with hits all across 3 states can be exhausting.  It shouldn't come as any surprise then that my fan base has reached out for some face-to-face meetings with moi. 

If you're a stickler for details, it was really just one fan who moved back to the neighborhood, had a baby, and needed a night out with some moms. 

Still, I googled the scenario and discovered that this was a textbook example of how sociopaths with a fetish for chubby blog moms set up their kills.  It was all very Ted Bundy.  Prey on a victim's sympathies. Find items of relatability. Then smack 'em upside the head with a bottle of Chianti.  My family would have to bury my vintage Little People instead of me since my body would never ever be found.

But I'm like Super-Blogger.  I mean, if you're really going after a mom blogger, you don't opt for the  6 footer with a history of swearing and over-reacting.  Yet just to be safe, I lined up a few of my girls to help out in case my fan was truly a whack job.  In hindsight, I probably should have selected some bigger friends instead of the 90 pound weaklings who tagged along.  I think I could have taken them all put together.

Because of all the Ibuprofen and Vicodin I've downed the last couple of days for my back pain, I wasn't sure if meeting up for drink was such a good idea.  Eh.  I've never really been known for my reason and logic.  Impulse and emotion rule my zodiacal sign.  At least that's my gut feeling about the matter as I'm not really sure what my zodiacal sign is. 

The Beverly Mom Posse showed up and grabbed a table right by the door just in case we had to make a hasty exit.  Within moments, a frighteningly disheveled and peculiar-looking woman walked in.  My friends burst out laughing.  The woman kept walking right past us.  Not my fan.  *whew*  Of course my friends made comments about how the crazy lady seemed to fit the profile of the kind of people who would enjoy my blog.  My eloquent, high-brow English-Major response?

Shut up.  You guys suck.

A short while later, a very normal-looking person walked in.  This was of course my real fan.  Within a few minutes, we ascertained the normal southside-connections (which is to name 4 people in Beverly and figure out which one you're related to).

We all had a lovely evening and I am grateful to have found the one non-relative who reads my blog. 

Also, the nice policeman at the bar gave me some valuable advice about not meeting anyone I've talked to "on the Internet."  I tried explaining blogging, but I don't think I communicated it very well. 

I promised the nice officer that next time I meet a fan, I will take the proper precautions.  I thought he meant to bring a can of pepper spray.  He was thinking sharp-shooters. 

I love Chicago.