I find myself at a loss for words thinking of what to talk about during Friday night. I mean, I already did everything I wanted to do during the daylight hours of Friday and the night only featured limited engagements. Between not watching "Street Fighter: The Legend of Chun-Li" and not winning one of the passes to the preview screening of "Watchmen," there was nothing to cover except dinner at Chevy's with EBK Al and some of my Bay Area anime and cosplay friends. Yeah, I guess I can go with that. Breaking bread among company is a necessary part of the convention experience.

After the "Spongebob Squarepants" panel, I headed back to the Dealers Hall and ran into Charie. She was remarkably out of place as the normal girl with an abnormal amount of patience when surrounded by the antics of the idiotic man-children around her.

The idiotic man-children consisted of Jonas with his keen eye for photography countered by his confusion over which end of the camera the pictures come from (a reenactment of an amusing moment when we asked someone for a group shot). There was also his tiny Superman.

Rounding out the rest of the idiotic man-children were Craig and myself. When we weren't engaging in the worst attempted battle reenactment between Godzilla and Ultraman (would Ultraman kick Godzilla in the crotch?), I was fashioning a fancy cape from one of the giant red Radical Comics bags. Every wannabe boy superhero had to have a cape at some point. I then got my classic Snoopy plush to fight against Charie's Sgt. Frog plush.

Upon finding BART Boy, Jan, Joe, and finally EBK Al, we headed to the Chevy's across the street as per tradition. I was not able to keep my word to the Yelp! Girls I met earlier. With a smaller group compared to last year and most of us dressed well enough to almost past as civilians (glares at Craig), we were seated quickly.

Jonas' large margarita would be the toast of the table and the primary source of alcohol. I decided to celebrate being clean and sober throughout February with a drink from his margarita.

One cool yet scary thing to note about Chevy's is that its menu now lists carbs and calories. It's a cool response to the demands of knowing what we're stuffing our faces with, but scary to realize the popular favorites like fajitas and the signature platters that we're stuffing our faces with range between 1,200 to 1,800 calories. Don't get me started on dessert. On the flip side, the printed calorie count did get me to try something I would never consider: The cilantro lime chicken salad (less than 600 calories). It actually tasted like a light cilantro lime chicken salad. Throw in about three pineapple lemonades (100 calories a pop) and I would still be under the recommended 2,000 calories for the day thanks to the banana and bread I had for lunch and breakfast respectively. Mooching off Joe and Jan's fried ice cream and a sip of Jonas' pomegranate margarita would probably screw up the caloric intake, but it would be by a smaller margin than eating the sizzling fajitas.

I joked around with Charie and BART Boy due to my code of joking around with the people sitting closest to me. At Charie's request, I bummed a few cherries from the bar for some fruity goodness and demonstrations in cherry stem knot tying. I'm glad to see that I'm not the only one with this useless ability (at least, not the only one who would demonstrate in public).

Things became kind of a blur for me as the pineapple lemonades began to kick. Amid the generic talk of the convention so far, the costumes seen, and how yet another convention was happening in such a short time, other topics covered included the vices given up during Lent, the paradox of an antisocial person conversing with people at cons, the mooching of each other's food, the significance of a man who gets his photos taken with many girls (none whatsoever), and whether a dessert item is flipping customers off.

With decent food and an easygoing atmosphere among friends, it was a fun night out to wrap up the first day of WonderCon. We even had the customary cheers.

After paying the bill, Charie, BART Boy, and I ran together to the BART station and headed our separate ways. I ran off to my Firday night karaoke place to perform an embarrassingly bad rendition of Talking Heads' "And She Was." It was so embarrassing for me that I didn't want to upload it to Youtube. Nevertheless I had computers and was tapping phone lines. I know that wasn't allowed.