I made my way to the exhibits area and found the Denver2008 Bid team sitting at our table. With little Hershey kisses sitting in a bowl. We set up a plan for the day. We were hosting a bid party that night and needed to get some supplies. I was the runner. Fortunately, Ann was willing to help since she supported our Denver2008 bid.

So, we set off for the local ASDA which was on the other side of the river. At first we thought to reduce our taxi fare by walking over to the Science Center on the other side of the river (there are pedestrian bridges across the Clyde right there) Unfortunately, all the taxis were queued up in front of the SECC or Moat House, so back across the river we went, found a big black taxi and said we wanted the ASDA in Govan. And off we went. Those taxis are so spacious, so big, so comfortable. Why don’t we have them here in the States?

British Supermarkets are very similar to American markets except for one critical thing, the shopping carts. The British shopping carts have 4 omni-directional wheels whereas American carts have just 2, the front wheels. 4 free-spinning wheels is a great way to learn about the laws a motion and inertia, especially if you have a cart loaded with a hundred kilos of supplies. You can’t turn the cart without using the display cabinets or other carts as a stopping point. Very Awkward.

I was using a predetermined shopping list to select our supplies and Ann insisted on using experience and common sense. But I did get my three bags of Red Seedless Grapes into the cart. We weren’t too worried about over-buying supplies on today’s trip since we were also hosting a party Sunday night and we could store any leftovers in the Hotel’s walk-in fridges. We ended up with two large shopping carts overloaded with cookies, crackers, cheddars, colas, candies, Ginger Beer, fruits, Hard Cider, and wine. We had enough to party for a week.

We caught a black taxi in the parking lot, filled it up and headed for the Hilton, slightly slowed by the rush hour traffic. The porters helped get our stuff up to the Glenfiddich room and we prepared to set up for the party.

The rest of the bidders showed up and we decorated the room with silver and gold and all those other things gnomes dig up. Along with maps and Denver Literature. About 8:30 we were ready and, so, we opened the doors.

Now a word here about a major difference between European and American Conventions. In America, conventions have a Con Suite, a hospitality suite, that provides a meeting place for fans to sit down and relax and it also provides some munchies and refreshments. In Europe there is no Con Suite. Typically, the fans gather at the hotel bar and buy rounds of drinks for each other. There is no expectation of munchies or refreshments provided by the convention. And there are no room parties at a European convention. The hotel corkage rules are such that it is not worth the expense or hassle to get them waived, so, a bid party at a typical convention may consist of the bidders buying a few rounds at the hotel bar.

Here at the Glasgow Hilton, the convention had arranged for the corkage waivers in the function rooms; the bids, and other groups so interested, could throw parties galore serving whatever they wished. And many did over the course of the weekend. We were the first to open.

There should be a word that describes the descent of fans upon an open party with food and alcohol but I’m not sure what it is. A swarm is too genteel, a horde is too pleasant. It will come to me once the shock of remembrance has worn off. It was a rather frenetic three hours until we ran out of food and drinks, even the red grapes were gone. Then, strangely, the crowds disappeared.

The Convention got the Hotel to set up a Real Ale Bar in the function area (this is why we didn’t try to supply any beer at our party) It was a good place to get a tasty bitter.

As our party started to wind down because the cupboard was bare, I tried to wander into some of the other parties where the crowds were still jumping. Over time, I appear to have became shy of large crowds. I find them antithetical to what I am looking for in a party, this may also be why I a not an obnoxious drunk any more, just obnoxious.

Eventually, things at the Hilton died down, I found Ann and we walked back to CairnCross, only a few miles down the road.