The first time I went to the Association of Writers and Writing Programs conference it was 2007 and in New York.
I approached a writer and started speaking to him only to realize after a few words that he wasn't the guy I thought he was. He and that guy share some features. Dark skin and dreadlocks. It was an embarrassing moment.
To be fair, he actually did look a lot like the guy I thought he was and he had good humor about it, joking that all black folks don't look alike.
AWP is in DC this year and I keep seeing the guy walk across the hotel floor. He doesn't recognize me, but every time I see him I chuckle and feel like a bit of a fool.
A few hours after the mistaken identity, I actually did meet the writer I thought I was meeting in the first place. He was a bit of a dick.
This post says very little about my AWP 2011 experience. That's OK. it's late and I have to take my son over to my parents' house in the morning. And then I have to teach. And then I have to rush over to AWP.
Good night. And if you are reading this during the day, Good day. And if it is mid afternoon, fuck you.