One Night in Los Angeles

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Sam didn’t know us from Adam (technically, I had met him briefly at GDC, but not at length) and he got drinks in our hands and food in our mouths in short order. We got separated at the presser, but we approved of his friendly manner.

This time, he had a beer in either hand. He said, “All right, all right! I see some people I know! What’s up guys!”

We exchanged niceties for a couple moments before he handed both beers to me and ran off, saying he had to take care of something. Peter and I shrugged at each other and returned to our conversation only to have Sam return, this time with two martini glasses filled with easily two feet of fluffy pink cotton candy. He gave these to the two girls sitting at the table opposite us – who I am almost certain he never actually even spoke to prior to his gift – and began to hand feed the one on the right.

When he was done, he turned back to us, still grinning, took back his beers and asked, “So where’s the next party?”

*

While we determined that, two other things were happening at once. Karaoke was being set up at the front of the bar, which meant I was hastier to leave than was wise (Chuck, I think, still hasn’t forgiven me for sabotaging his chance for karaoke glory). Nearby, on the mechanical bull, a guy hit his head and, I am told, an ambulance was called, causing a bit of a stir (admit it, you thought one of us was stupid enough to try that thing, didn’t you?).

*

Though Chuck and I did not have firm invites to the Gears of War 3 party at The Edison, a friendly PR person assured us that she could get us in. Now four strong, we jumped in another cab and headed back to Downtown.

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Things get a little fuzzy after that. We were shepherded into the Edison in short order, where Sam disappeared into the crowd, probably to bring the party magic to some other group of people. We ran into some PR folks and I got a writer friend of mine in as well. We all tried to converse, but Ice-T and Body Count were playing five feet away. It was hot. It was kind of smelly. We saw Coco, and were impressed.

About half an hour after we got there, at midnight, the overhead lights came on. The cruelest thing you can do to a room full of revelers is to turn on the bright lights. We scuttled out into the darkness like roaches.

Back on the street, we discussed our lot. It was only 12 o’clock. There were other parties and other adventures to be had. Down that road was Swingers and Less than Zero, glory, infamy, a long ride to Vegas and maybe madness and death. But we were already down a man, had seen countless displays of violence and debauchery – and Sam, the Ghost of E3 Present, was gone. We made for our hotel, a little sadder, but a little wiser too.

The next morning, I could scarcely move – hangover and general exhaustion had conspired to bring me low and it would take me until about noon before I had recovered enough to get back to the show floor. Chuck had shambled off to breakfast around 9 o’clock in the morning. We were matching shades of deathly pale when we met up.

Eb came back around the same time Chuck left. He was covered with those plastic discs that attach to the wires that monitor your heart rate. When I asked why he still had them on, he said he couldn’t get them off.

He also said, “One good thing about last night? I got to sleep in a bed instead of on the hotel floor.”

———

Stu Horvath tweets best when he is hung over.You can follow him via @StuHorvath

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