A Poke in the Eye of the Online/Multimedia Industrial Complex
Vol. 1, No. 23
[scientifically tested to take no more than 3 minutes to read, depending on how many free drinks you've snarfed]
Deconstructing the Convention Soiree (or)
How to Get Ahead with Your Head in the Punchbowl
Seybold San Francisco, CA -- They've been described as more dangerous than dating Mike Tyson, with more pitfalls than a stroll through Baghdad. Could we possibly be talking about industry parties thrown at conventions? Oh yes we could. Let's put it this way: would you rather be mugged, or tanked up on free booze and food and then snuck into a dry-as-a-desert demo of a color-matching system? At least the mugger is up front about what he wants, and gets it over with quick. Sure, somewhere on the invitation was a mention of some gee-whiz product or another, but who can tell after reading about free martinis, city-wide views, live music, lap dancers, and all the coke you can snort (OK, maybe not the last two).
If you must attend a convention, is it humanly possible to skip the boring demos, ignore the snooze-worthy panels, bypass the Crazy Eddie-like exhibition hall shills, and just stuff your gullet with top-shelf booze and designer finger foods without guilt? You betcha. Just peruse the 3MR guide to high-tech convention parties, and you'll be swillin' with the best of 'em in no time.
Our motto: All the calories, and no demos!
Preparation:
* Sign up as a press person for the convention. Say you want to be contacted by companies by email and snail mail. Give your favorite enemy's email address (who will soon after be spammed with press releases about laserjet cartridge holders), but give your real mailing address -- gotta get the party invites.
* Do not, repeat, DO NOT RSVP for any parties unless bands you really like are playing. This allows you to arrive unnoticed by prying PR people.
* Do not eat or drink for 24 hours before hitting soirees.
* Bring one woman along. Women are rare commodities and will not be turned away from any party.
Arrival:
* Hand over invitation to hired guns at door, and swoosh into shindig without glancing at anyone. Pretend like you see an old friend on the other side of the room, and rush away from anyone trying to give you a name tag, press kit, business card, or raffle ticket (unless raffle is to win a year's supply of mouse pads; in this case, go to next party).
* If you blow this and are handed any press materials, look vaguely interested, nod approval, mumble about talking to your editor, and then turn a corner and pitch the offending materials into a trash receptacle.
* Follow your nose to the buffet. Pretend like you're feeding a family of four with 6 tiny buffet plates. Find a table, then send a minion to the bar for drink orders. Rotate minions on drink missions so there's a constant supply. Repeat until you are so drunk you don't know the difference between John Sculley and George Plimpton (wait a second, there IS no difference, except one faked knowledge of technology, the other faked knowledge of football flea flickers).
Party Monsters:
* Avoid any roaming group wearing matching T-shirts. They will kidnap you, take you to a darkened room, make you watch a demo with your eyes pried open, "Clockwork Orange" style, and leave you for dead in a gutter with one of their T-shirts. You will wander the city, zombie-like, looking for people to regale by giving details of Internet photo technology.
* Important-looking old people in suits. They are usually kept in executive offices, but bring out a reserve of wild-eyed enthusiasm for their product, and will tell any press person who moves every detail about it. Beware: they lurk near the best food.
* Other poachers like yourself. They are your competition. It's best to turn them in, and in the ensuing melee, make off with all the good truffles.
Trustworthy Souls
* Any hired help such as caterers, bartenders, drummers in the band, or psychedelic light projectionists. These people are not only sane, but can help you get a good idea of how much the company threw down the toilet on the party.
* Disgruntled former employees who show up to ruin the party. They are good sources for information on dictatorial management horror stories, product bugs, trade secrets, and the fastest-moving line for alcohol.
A final word of warning: If you see someone smiling at you who is particularly attractive (male or female), note their distance from a computer workstation. If they have no pimples, don't smell bad, and are wearing the most wrinkle-free garments in the room, run like your pants are on fire! This person wants to give you a demo.
If these guidelines fail you and, heaven forbid, you are stuck in a demo, tell them you write for the 3-Minute Roast. If they know what's good for them, they'll drop you like a hot potato. Otherwise, send your report to us. Happy mooching!
"3-Minute Roast" is a weekly, advertisement-free, opinionated rip on anything that strikes our fancy in the online world.
Max Schlickting - Editor-in-Chief
Barbara Yalpsid - Online Editor
Lefty Periwinkle - First Amendment Expert
Mark Glaser - Unpaid Editorial Intern* If you hate our rantings, send a reply message: "Bill Gates is funny
and you aren't," and we'll discontinue service.
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