I forgot about the tremendous opportunity at shows such as this for booty.
Now before people start hitting me and sending sympathetic notes to Margie over my “Guy at a business conference who betrays his marital vows” (in which case it would be me requiring the sympathetic notes because it would be Margie hitting me — and she hits hard), I am referring, of course, to booty in the “pirate’s swag” sense.
As in, “I went to the vendor show at Gartner and all I got was a lousy t-shirt. And some pens. And a tote bag. And some stuffed animals. And some retractable extension phone lines. And a Velcro dart board. And some foam cubes, suitable for hurling across the office. And some key chains. And some superballs that light up when you bounce them. And a lot of brochures. And a Lego dune buggy. And a foam rubber brain. And a Magic 8-Ball. And a PDA case. And some mouse pads. And some pill boxes with mints in them. Oh, and a lava lamp.”
And now, since she has to figure how to pack all this, Margie is going to hit me anyway. And she hits hard.