“So this is where we’re at, with the site. We have some great things on the horizon, but we have to keep producing content or we’re going to be circling the drain, for real this time.” Zro Lvs said as he stood, hands firmly on the tabletop.
Zero stood at the head of the table and although he was addressing the entire group, I could feel his gaze assessing Sweet T and me in particular. He was asking ‘are you two too worn out to keep doing this?’ The answer was no, we aren’t. It’s just been a long winter. I try to avert my gaze in shame, but it doesn’t help. We have been slacking, and it’s shown, but there was hope on the horizon.
Meeting days were interesting. They ranged from totally productive to totally ineffectual – my mind goes back to the time last March when we held the meeting at me and Sweet T’s South Jersey home, and I got so sloppy blotto I couldn’t stand – but the biennial Team TD2BD meetings were always a fun time.
And they were all similar, regardless of productivity or creative output. They usually consisted of Zero spouting paranoid, alarmist rhetoric about the impending doom and uncertain future of the website (which, to be fair, is never unjustified), while Kingpin looked at either Reddit or porn or both, and Skinny Pete got blackly drunk before the meeting’s end. Sweet T and I typically got so low beforehand that it was almost impossible for us to participate in any real way. Typically only DJ Adub or Tanner were the only ones to offer any actual insights. It was business as usual in Philadlphia.
Our meetings were held almost exclusively at our Center City *ahem* office (with the exception of the aforementioned sloppy-drunken New Jersey meeting). Our meeting place suited us for our particular needs, and today’s meeting was no different. Well, except it was a little different. Sweet T and I had picked up The Amazing Brettzo for our pre-meeting ritual this time, and upon arriving (late) we found several new faces seated at our usual table.
The faces weren’t new to me per se, but they were new to the everyday workings of the website and were seemingly becoming more and more permanent fixtures to TD2BD. The face of our little group had changed – was changing – drastically. Only a few of the people present at some of our first meetings were still there today. The majority of us had been doing this for almost two years now. A select few had been at it for over three. The landscape of the group had evolved from being a small group of four or five writers, two photographers, and an editor-in-chief, to a large group of more a dozen of us – now including 4.5 photographers, a videographer, half a dozen (lazy but talented) writers, two resident DJ’s, a successful DJ/promoter, a mascot/Kaiju superhero, a boylesque dancer with a fabulous mustache, a full time editor, and an editor in chief – not to mention the leagues of supportive fans, event attendees, joint collaborators, burlesque dancers, guest writers, and general well-wishers we had in our corner. Over the course of my time with TheresDrinkingToBeDone.com, the core of the group had remained the same, but the group as a whole was gathering speed and strength in numbers.
“Alright, that being said, we’ve got some new faces here with us today,” he pointed to The Amazing Brettzo, and Booth, two people with whom I’ve developed a friendship if not a professional relationship, and then he pointed to two young men I’d never met before.
“I’d also like to introduce two new members to the team. This is Shan, our newest official photographer – although he’s worked with us before – and Rahl Noir, our newest writer. Roc?”
“Yes sir!” I said abruptly as I sipped my third SoCo on the rocks. I was trying to kill my high with a solid buzz.
“Dan and you are gunna become best friends. You’re gunna show him the ropes. Give him an idea of what it is you do here. Got it?”
“Aye aye Capitan!”
Our *ahem* office’s lobby was getting more and more packed as our early afternoon meeting bled into early evening. The meeting was winding down and it became apparent that I was going to have to stay in the city of Philadelphia and get drunk for a while.
“Alright, you pansies,” Skinny Pete said as the meeting was wrapping up, “I’m taking Mr. Noir here to Ray’s Happy Birthday Bar. Who’s coming with me?”
Sweet T and I looked at each other and said in unison, “We are!”
The room was shocked. Roc Borja and Sweet T hanging out in the city before 8pm on non-official business? What kind of madness was this? Well, it was the first nice night of a spring that was greeted by one last kick in the balls from winter. We wanted to go out on the town for once. Plus, we had to show the newbie what kind of idiocy he had in store ahead of him.
It was maybe 6 o’clock by the time we got to Ray’s. We’d been in the city drinking already for a solid three hours, and while I still had my wits about me I was ready to demolish those wits with spirits and fine hydroponics. Before I knew it, it was after 11 o’clock and I was picking songs on the jukebox with an 8-fingered man in a cowboy hat while the room filled with smoke and bodies. I turned to Rahl, who we assured that it would only get weirder from here, and simply said:
The bottom line
Expect big things from us this spring. With some new faces on the roster and some new projects in the works, you can expect this spring and summer to be the biggest we’ve had so far. We’re getting ready to shake this god forsaken snow off of our shoulders and start afresh. Be sure to keep your eyes peeled for all of our typical shenanigans (and some new ones) in the months to come!