Let me start with shenanigans, because cons and stories should have them. Sarah and I discovered two years ago that when we dress nice and go to dinner, nosy people flip-the-fuck-out. She’s obviously not my daughter, and we couldn’t possibly be friends, so there must be something insidious going on. (I promise, there is – we’re screwing with you.)
Normally we hit up one nice dinner. Being our last con and my birthday weekend, we went out three nights. As she says, she wore a “costume” every night. She wore them well. Sarah is sharp as she is beautiful, and we laughed at every stink-eye we earned.