…and they drink a lot. Well, I did. Honestly it wasn’t that bad, except for trying to find a suitable costume for my character (a gangster hit man posing as a gambler. No, really.) To be honest, the amount of characters and all the “clue” pages and background story were just too much to get a handle on with a martini or two in hand. I noticed that the crowed really divided into two groups: Those that took it seriously and those who didn’t. Guess which camp I was in, which made it a bit uncomfortable when people would approach me “in character” asking what I knew about the money or the body or the affair. And on a secondary layer, when you met anyone, you weren’t sure if they wanted to know your real name or that of your character. On the plus side, the food was very good, and most of the people were very nice, and the view from this apartment was spectacular. The oddest moment of the evening was meeting an honest-to-god right wing nut in the kitchen, who kept moaning about those no-good Occupy Wall Street people and how under Obama the country was careening towards “socialism”. I swear, he actually used those words. After berating him for a few minutes, I had to get out of the room he was in, or the night was liable to turn into a real murder mystery (minus the mystery).