NetParty - Are you nerd enough?
*Dustin Doering, John Erik Metcalf, Bianca Malinowski & Jon Ray do some “networking.”
The drizzle coming from above head is accumulating on the shoulders of my plaid sport jacket. This wouldn’t upset me so much had it not just come from the dry cleaners only hours before. I’m whining while watching a bouncer meticulously study my driver’s license outside Pangea, the trendy “I’m in Africa, no wait…New York…who cares, they say it’s cool” night club which took over the former Alamo Drafthouse location in downtown Austin.
I hate waiting behind velvet ropes, but such is the price we pay while working our way up through the ranks of celebrity. Perhaps one day. I hold my breath. Walking up the stairs that lead to the club, I’m instantly greeted by one of several beautiful blonde hosts, “How are you boys tonight?” At first, I’m frightened. This type of upfront swooning is the type of thing you usually expect to find just before you pull out four hundred dollars from a corner ATM to blow on “entertainment” for you and those lucky enough to be sitting at your table. What was I walking into?
After getting outfitted with a color-coded name tag that lets everyone there know who I am, what I do and how much money I made last year, I head for the bar. A couple thousand other people had the same idea, so I find myself “excusing” and “pardoning” my way through a sea of people arguing about PR versus marketing, whether social media has any real merit and how successful or unsuccessful Coca-Cola has been with their Second Life efforts. I bite my tongue until it bleeds, refusing to jump into debate until I have a drink in hand.
A girl recognizes me and based on the way she says hello, I realize that this must be someone that I’ve never met in person, but vaguely spoken with over the internet. I picture myself in an iPhone commercial, speaking about how I pulled up her Facebook account just before she approached me and without missing a beat I knew exactly who she was, but it’s too late. “Hey, Jon!” I fumble around for small talk and then her name comes to me and we are lost in conversation for the next ten minutes. Glad to have found a friend, but still eager for a drink, I eye an opening at the bar and jump at it.
As the bar makes my drink (Jager with a 7&7 chaser), I lean against the bar and for the first time have an opportunity to survey the scene. The tribal themed club is packed with the Who’s Who of Austin’s geek chic. There’s a slight segregation in the massive room between two groups. The first; ladder-climbers holding business degrees, wear cocktail dresses or slacks, button downs and designer ties, while speaking of promotions, new hires and lost accounts. They are networking animals, bred for this occasion. Each, one of Susan RoAne’s perfect specimens, their starched collars moving across the room like pieces on a chess board. Business cards in Eggshell, set with Romalian type. The second; the bad boys of Web 2.0, still in sunglasses, though it’s raining and the sun went down hours ago. European jeans, logo-free track jackets, Bill Blass shirts and skinny ties, loosely tied, edges meticulously frayed to pass as vintage give this breed of networkers confidence to argue any issue, any time, no matter how little they know about it. When they leave, they’ll set up their gear and play a house party. Directions will be communicated through a mobile Twitter account. This is NetParty.
NetParty is a mix of business and social networking events, held after-work at nightclubs, lounges, mansions and other cool venues (like Pangea), attended by hundreds of young professionals and designed to make it easy to make new contacts and new friends. I once walked into what I thought was a NetParty event, but it turned out to be a Foot Clan block party in Shredder’s lair. You can understand my logic, though, as I wouldn’t be thrown off in the least if I showed up to NetParty and found myself dropping into a homemade skateboard park. It’s just that kind of party. Everyone is young. Everyone likes to drink. Everyone has an opinion they are willing to defend to the death! How can you go wrong?
I throw the Jager to the back of my throat and slam the glass down on the bar. A legal receptionist/Kindergarten teacher/”just working my way through school, then quitting” type looks at me and smiles and I suddenly realize that I’m wearing a camera on my lapel that is live broadcasting this all to the internet. Somewhere in Massillon, Ohio a 16-year old boy is drooling over this girl and probably thinks that I’m cool because she seems moderately interested in me. I approach her solely to appease his raging teenage hormones and because I can now feel the Jager racing through my blood. Lifecasting serves absolutely no real benefit in everyday life other than the fact that at events like this, people are fascinated by the technology and thrilled to embrace their strange voyeuristic need to be “seen.” The school teacher is no different and for fifteen minutes she flirts with my lapel.
In addition to the 1.6 pound laptop that is broadcasting this event live to the internet, my messenger bag is filled with one hundred-plus carefully folded origami notes, each with a special hand-written note from me, my contact information and a message that asks, junior high style, “Do you want to contact me and talk about social media, marketing or HD video production? Yes, No, Maybe (Circle One).” The ladder-climbers have their thousand dollar business cards made of shaved elephant tusk. The trendies pass around matted-gloss cards from MOO.com with only their name and blog address. I’m working the room with copious success dealing out nostalgia in the form of folded paper. No matter what group you’re in, the geek crowd loves creativity. I smile. Tonight, I’ve got it in spades.
Moving around the room, I spot a group of people that look familiar and share three or four drinks in their company. Now that I’m loose, it’s time to do some networking. For the next hour and a half I will personally meet and share 1-3 minutes with each of 50-60 of 650 or so young “professionals.” When I leave I’ll have danced on a table, hurdled a leather sectional, lost my laptop, commissioned three new clients, passed out the equivalent of half a Moleskin journal, found my laptop and kissed someone’s mom, all in that order. As I sign the bar tab that will bankrupt me when it clears in the morning, I can’t help but feel satisfied. Walking back down the stairs with a few new friends, I relish in the fact that it’s only 9:00PM. Where to next?
NetParty is unleashing its fury on Austin again this Wednesday, February 27, 2007. Click here to RSVP for what will no doubt be another night of nerd talk and debauchery. Remember: Some of you had to pay $25 at the door last time because you didn’t think the RSVP was for real. Don’t make that mistake again, click here.
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