Sometimes I receive an errant mail–the Tea Party’s e-newsletter, the alumni newsletter from Cal State LA (my dad went there, and we do share a last name, I guess), and earlier this week, an invitation from the Do-WAP Agency to come down to the Royal St. Charles Hotel to learn a thing or two about their conference services. Never one to turn down a free lunch (after all, I was invited), I rode my bike down there after running some morning errands Uptown. I locked my bike to a streetcar sign, took the elevator to the third floor, and discovered instantly that I was in the wrong place. No, I don’t work for a company, no, I don’t have a business card, no, I am not planning any conventions. I got a plate of Asian coleslaw (which was neither), jambalaya, and pasta “primavera” before sitting at a table with some actual conference planning professionals as they exchanged business cards and debated where to throw their company’s Essence Fest parties. “You guys do modeling too, right? Can I get your card?” I didn’t win the raffle, got three servings of bread pudding, did a tour of the rooms, and thought that yeah, I would totally book a block of rooms here, if I ever needed to do such a thing. But they need to get some bike racks. I rode home in spittling rain without slipping on wet streetcar tracks, so I would say, all in all, that ride was a win.