Eating Crow So Mark and I are in Vegas for DEFCON, an underground hacker/phreaker convention. We're sitting in the Treasure Island buffet, just starting to eat when I notice a woman passing our table. She's wearing jeans and a big leather belt and one of those ribbed T-shirts that some people wear successfully and she was managing spectacularly. My chin gets food all over it when it falls into my plate. She looks over at me and I try to casually look away, like I had just happened to be looking at her when she looked over at me. I end up looking at Mark, who's looking over at her, and I figure that since he's looking at her, she's no longer looking at me and I look back at her just as she stops looking at Mark and looks back at me. I'm subtle that way. She walks over to the table where her friend is sitting and they start talking. Suddenly, they both turn towards me and I realize that I'm still looking at them. "Hi," I say, before my brain can seize control and think of something to do. "We were checking you out. Sorry!" Standing to our right is the waitress, who's come out of nowhere and is waiting to take our drink orders. "Well, at least it's original," she says. "I've never heard that one before." I ask for a Dr. Pepper and spend the rest of the meal slumped down in my seat, apparently turning all sorts of shades of red. Then we went to see Cirque Du Soliel and ended up with better seats that George and Barbara Bush, who were there too. ★