Bloggers Anonymous

She looked at herself one last time in the mirror. Satisfied with her overall look, she quickly threw her lipstick, eyeliner and compact into her clutch bag. “Not too bad” she said to her reflection in the mirror although she wasn’t sure she could say the same about her decision to go for this ‘meet-up’. Yes it had been weeks (probably months) since she’d met up a random stranger much less a whole hoard of random strangers but she figured it was still a better option than spending another Friday night with her head buried in work. In the worst case she’d hate it and excuse herself after downing a couple drinks, in the best… well who knows?!

She’d spent the better half of the evening trying to pick out a suitable outfit and had finally settled on blue jeans, a white tank top and her favorite purple corduroy jacket with a purple and turquoise scarf thrown in for good measure. Teamed up with her new white platform heels, the outfit looked nice but maybe a tad too casual. She quickly dismissed the thought though. Wasn’t the whole idea to ensure no one guessed her actual identity? And speaking of identity, she hadn’t even given a passing thought to how she’d introduce herself. Was there a set of rules for such ‘meet-ups’? Did people use fake names or introduce themselves as who they actually are, like in their real lives?

Anonymous Bloggers Convention – ABC! Just saying it out loud sent shivers up her spine. What kind of people blog anonymously she asked herself. Axe-murders, swingers, people with double lives and spies? Surely she was the exception and the rule was that most anonymous bloggers were pedophiles, convicts or under a witness protection program. Popping an Altoid in her mouth, she grabbed her keys off the microwave and headed out the door trying hard to think of a few reasons to justify this impulsive act of signing up for the ABC last week.

Yes she’d been mildly buzzed and extremely bored but it was more than just that she figured as she got out of her apartment and walked towards Bryant Park. And while it was easy to place the blame squarely on Mark’s slight shoulders, she was sure it was more than just the talking down she’d received from her gay flat mate for living like such a hermit recently that’d made her sign-up. As she walked towards the subway and boarded the F train to get to Delancey St. she thought about her own ‘anonymous blog’ and suddenly she knew why she was doing this. Her blog, albeit anonymous, was probably the most real part of her. She’d shared so much with it over the past year and a half, probably more than she’d shared with any friend in her entire lifetime. She owed it to her blog and somehow she was sure being part of this Anonymous Bloggers Convention would validate her blog and make it feel like a part of her real life.

Settling down into an empty seat, she put on her headphones and hit play on her iPod. As Lenka started crooning in her ears she bobbed her head and sent out a silent prayer. Yes indeed, she would “just enjoy the show” tonight.

“Oh and honey once you’re done could you please pass the board on to the hot guy behind you?” Chubs yelled in the background. Turning around Alesia found herself standing four inches from the most gorgeous guy she’d ever laid her eyes on. Well over six feet tall and dressed in jeans, a navy dress shirt and tan loafers, he could’ve easily passed off as a model (instead of the psychopath stalker he probably was). Taking the clipboard from her while slyly giving her a once over he read her name out loud, making her blush. “So Alesia, is that your real name or the fictitious identity you’ve decided to assume for the special occasion?” And the bubble burst! For all that he had going for him in the looks department, he sounds like a fifteen year old at the throes of puberty. “No that’s actually me”, she smiled back sweetly. Clearly she had put her finger on the cause of his anonymity! “Adam”. “Nice to meet you Adam. I’ll see you around” she said politely and excused herself.

In the main area she spotted a host of sharply dressed men, coiffed and done up women, a smattering of hipsters, a few yuppies, too many nerds and a whole group of gays. Not knowing which way to go, she decided to play it safe and head to the bar. She’d been to The Stanton Social twice before. Once on a random date set up by Megan, self proclaimed shoe addict & best friend extraordinaire and another time for a colleague’s farewell. Both times the food had been great and the cocktails exquisite.

Propping herself up on a barstool and managing to catch the waiter’s eye, she asked for a Bea’s Gin-Lemon Mojito and tried to assimilate her thoughts. She’d made up her mind to go with the truth about herself without revealing her blogger identity or the blog. That way she could relax and enjoy her cocktails without getting stressed about improvising on the spot. That’s when he approached her.

“Is it just me or can you totally match all the bloggers in here to their blogs?” Mildly amused and totally interested, she turned around to face a guy probably in his early thirties with what could only be described as an unforgettable face. He wasn’t conventionally good looking but had sharp features and coupled with an air of coolness he looked like Mr. Darcy, if Darcy had worn jeans, a white tee and a sports jacket and frequented blogger meet-ups.

“Devon. And before you ask, yes that’s my real name”. “Alesia, my real name too. Figured it’ll be easier to withhold my blog identity than lie”, she confided. He smiled knowingly and eased himself on to the barstool beside her. He requested the bartender for a beer and turned his attention to her. “So how long have you been here? Long enough to introduce yourself to the hipsters and tech-geeks?” he ribbed. “No but I’m dying to know which bloggers you’ve managed to match to their blogs. And more importantly how you've managed to accomplish this unbelievable feat” she teased. “For starters you check the guest list” he quipped causing her cheeks to redden, “And then you just let your imagination run a little wild. For instance, see that confident red head in the green dress? She’s probably the chick from that blog ‘menhatedatingconfidentwomen’ or that guy in the navy dress shirt; he’s probably the ‘undercoverfbiblogger’” he completed. “Well I doubt that because I actually spoke with him and that’s a very bleak possibility”she smiled.

“Well you don’t strike me as an anonymous blogger type of girl, what gives?” he asked. “I’d really rather not talk about my blog but I’d be happy to talk about yours” Alesia grinned. With a guilty smile Devon steered the conversation towards safer territory and began to tell her about his move to New York a couple months back, working as a sportscaster and trying to juggle a busy schedule while trying to meet new people in this ever bustling city. She told him about her boring desk job working in the back office of an import-export company, living with her gay flat mate and dealing with a completely crazy but totally fun best friend. They discussed food, their mutual love for music and their favorite radio shows. She explained to him why New York was the only city she’d ever want to live in and narrated some crazy incidents that made the city so special to her. Conversation flowed freely till Chubs broke up their private party of two with a “Let’s get to know other people guys!”

After exchanging their contact numbers they both headed in opposite directions to socialize with ‘other people’. She was shocked at how friendly and easy-going most of the other bloggers were and how all of them seemed perfectly normal, contrary to her preconceived notions about them. By the time she was officially done for the night Devon had already left. Ambling towards the subway she reflected back on the night and how much fun she’d had despite her initial reluctance, glad that she’d made the effort to go. She wondered why Devon hadn’t bothered to say goodbye as she walked into the apartment but seconds later forgot all about it, barely managing to change into her pjs before she threw herself on the bed.

Little did she know that this one night would herald a series of events that would bring her equal amounts of joy and pain very soon!