Out of reasonable options yet with a shitload of time on my hands, I decided to sign up for Google-ers R Us. I saw ads for it in a few places but was surprised to find it was a physical group that met in my hometown. After filling out a contact page, I found a list of meeting times and places. The next meeting was only a couple days away. I figured I might as well go to that one.
We gathered at the Lyric Theater and sat on the main stage. Twenty or so chairs were placed in a semicircle facing out toward the seats. By the time I arrived, only two seats were empty. I snagged one near an end just as a borderline anorexic guy ran up on stage and stood in front of us. Looking around, it seemed a lot of people assembled knew this guy, as their faces relaxed or even turned into small smiles. Their reaction soothed my nerves, even though the lot of these people were overweight and looked like they hardly left their houses. I should have guessed given this was a group of people who lived at their computers. Then again, my slim figure and my biological sex (I'm a girl) made me look like one of those blasted Twatterati members.
The meeting was kind of dull, dominated by one guy's verbal dissertation on a Google hack that could be used to access streaming porn around particular firewalls. Just as I was about to fall asleep, Mr. Manorexic (as I started calling the group leader in my head) dismissed the meeting. As I got up to leave, a skinny but cute guy with a mop of reddish brown hair approached me.
"Ailsa, right?" he asked.
I nodded.
"Are you here looking for information on how to find FuegoPura?"
"How would you know that?"
The kid smiled. "That's my little secret."
Cocking my head, I told him to give it up without uttering a single word.
"Tell you what. I'll buy you dinner and tell you how I know."
Free food? I could swing that.
"Well..." I said, "maybe. But who are you, anyway?"
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