Moving Out Martini

So it turns out that a martini is pure alcohol. Who knew?

It made moving seem effortless, at any rate. Just to stave off the accusations of unnecessary drunkenness, the occasion was a martini party to celebrate ‘s new employment after almost a month of unemployment. He is known for his abilities as a bartender, and I felt that getting a basic gin martini (with olive, of course) would be appropriate. Luke ate my olive.

After my first stop at the party, I returned to ML. Fellow sysadmins Dan and Branen helped me load up my stuff into Dan’s car and take it up to campus for storage in the SCCS media lounge.

As an interesting side note, Public Safety actually called backup (that means both trucks were present) before investigating our activities at Tarble. They just wanted to see our IDs, and that we (seemed to) have keys. Certainly the most thorough examination I’ve ever received from them. Usually they just stick their heads in when I’m working late in Hicks, and because I’m at a computer, they assume that I’m supposed to be there. They also asked for me in particular, since my name was on all of the boxes that we had offloaded at the curb. After a brief inspection (complete with menacing of large flashlights), they radioed in an all-clear. Very amusing. I feel reeeeaaaal safe. What if we had been trying to blow up Tarble?

All I have left is the stuff that’s going with me to the airport, and a box that will contain my bedding. Since the plan is to go to Java Joe’s tomorrow morning for brunch with the Yale House crew, I don’t think I will have any problems getting that stuff to where it belongs. My only worry is storing my newly-acquired whiteboard for the the next three weeks. Methinks that the Yale House porch will be an optimal location…


Comments

5 responses to “Moving Out Martini”

  1. Probably the Public Safety officers were just bored and trying to create excitement. :-P Or at least something to do.

    I hate olives.

  2. I’m going to tell Gil Rose.

    Also, Luke eats your olive every night, Nick, or so I heard.

  3. Waaaaaaah, Alex is gonna *tell* on me! :-P

    Besides, I always eat one ceremonial Kalamata olive every time he invites his students over, as a libation to thundering Zeus and because my parents taught me to be polite.

    And the last time I housesat for him, I took a few of the olives in the refrigerator and gave them to , who enjoyed them, so they went to a good cause.

  4. As to your first question, I did, in a sense. If by pure you mean “about 40 percent,” anyway.

  5. Well, yes, I realize that chemically speaking, it is not pure alcohol. From a mixology standpoint, however, it is only the liquor, with no non-alcoholic flavoring agents. Unless you count the olive…

Nurd Up!