I attended the Social Media Club Richmond event at the Science Museum of Virginia last night, escorted by one of my besties. Let me tell you, it was quite the soiree. Normally, I don’t attend events where I am expected to be social. After all, I am forced to be falsely polite all day long. “Yes, coworker, please DO tell me about how your dog is in heat and recount, scene for scene, the latest episode of Gossip Girl!” “Oh, customer, I agree that it’s HORRIBLE your nanny didn’t show up today because her own child has a fever of 102. How irresponsible and, frankly, inconvenient of her!” Anyway, based on stories I heard about last month’s meeting, it wasn’t hard to convince me that this was something I needed to witness. There isn’t a word in the English language that accurately conveys how true that really was.

First of all, for people who had come together to network, there was a whole lotta drinkin’ going on. Social media? Social lubrication! In fact, I would like to see the results after they crunch the numbers. The amount of alcohol that I witnessed (and participated in, I am judging from the inside, people!) being consumed looked to me like $15 per head might have been a losing proposition. A few of my fellow club members’ (we need shirts!) tweets should have read, “5:30pm-Standing” “8:30pm-Leaning” “9:30pm-Falling”. Oh, and there were beautiful hors d’oeuvres, but none of it looked like anything that would be safe to throw up later. Did I mention it was an open bar? Yeah.

In addition to, and partially because of, the scandalous consumption occurring, this thing was also hook-up city! Scientists should attend this event to study the mating habits of the Nerdicus Americanus. Put people who normally sit alone in an office together in a big room, surrounded by science, and sparks are gonna fly. I didn’t see any really good making out until the after party (more on that later) but there was some serious flirting (early in the night), playful touching (later on), and full-on groping (still later). If you hand me your business card when we first speak and then stop by beer minutes later to stare at my tits, the project we spoke about working on together is only slightly less legit sounding. Unless I missed an entry in Urban Dictionary announcing that “project” is the new “breasts”; in which case, my bad.

But, seriously, this thang was fer lernin’! There was a panel discussion that included three of my favorite men in Richmond (Jason Roop from Style Weekly, John Sarvay from Buttermilk and Molasses, and Ryan Nobles from NBC12), along with the lovely Rachel DePompa (also from NBC12), Ian Graham from RVAMag, and Aaron Kremer from Richmond Biz Sense. These media giants filled the IMAX dome with serious discussion about social media as it relates to journalism. I was nodding, vigorously, because I agreed with much of what was being said, but that lead to dizziness (sitting down was my biggest mistake) and so I just sat quietly while, somewhere toward the middle of the theater, an impromptu Spring Break party was breaking out. There was hooting and, possibly, hooters. I couldn’t quite see which girls had gone wild, but I could hear it loud and clear and wasn’t sure which part of the journalism discussion had prompted the sexyparty. Also, there was some heckling, but I am pretty sure Old Yeller was planted by Ian (at whom he was shouting) so he’d look more edgy and controversial. He was wearing mandals, for chrissake, he didn’t need help being different! Anyway, once my brain stopped shaking (insert British nanny joke, if you please, but I’m not going there. you know, because I am classy), I really enjoyed the panel and meeting with the panelists individually afterward to critique their performances (hey, the advice was free and the rest of these “experts” will charge you an arm and a leg!). The only thing that could have been improved was having the theater seats be able to flush because when I got home I saw that everyone had been tweeting that they had to go to the bathroom during the discussion. You know what? Alcohol!

After the official event was over, some folks hauled it over to Sticky Rice. My first time venturing into this Richmond landmark was certainly eventful. I saw social networkers drink more than I thought a human being could without ending up in the ER, sing some killer karaoke, and, um, network in ways that may or may not be officially approved by the SMC organization. If someone is not pregnant this morning with a social media baby, then they should at least get tested. Everyone who was in that place, whether from the “Club” or not, was networking in the naughtiest of ways. Conversations that I had with my fellow revelers confirm that this is, indeed, a common occurrence. Sticky Rice, fo’ eva!

In the end, I was glad to meet so many of the people at whose tiny one inch by one inch faces I have been staring for so long (note: very few of them looked/sounded like I expected), even if they didn’t know it was me. Also, I gained SO much dirt on important people that you should probably look for me to be writing for all of the major local publications in the near future. Turns out, social media CAN be profited from. I love networking!