there was a lot of frantic getting ready around 5pm at the house, but after everyone left to go set up at steuart st, the house was very quiet. two hours later i opened the front gate and walked down the hill into a different world, full of runners and chasers and mischief. i got to the diner early and the place was pretty dead. i settled in with a cocktail and agatha christie i'm borrowing from sam. i fielded some phone calls from chasers and other checkpoint people, talking about when to expect the first player. when he came in about 30 minutes later, he saw me right away and sat down across from me at the booth, breathing hard, and laid his manifest on the table. i told him he was first to arrive, signed the paper, and mistakenly sent him off with the wrong clue. the few other patrons and the owner were kind of curious about this exchange, so i explained the game. the next person came by shortly after and i gave him the wrong clue, also. then i had a moment to order breakfast and call sam to ask for the real clue, and got to eat and read and write liner note postcards for a while before players alone and in groups started showing up in close succession with stories and fear and sweat all over them. by the time the last few stragglers passed by, the eggs on my plate were cold. i did a task to keep busy and called around again to see how things were progressing beyond my checkpoint. finally i paid the tab, thanked the owner for being totally cool about troupes of sweaty people running in and out all evening, and went up to catch the n judah to the beach and the bonfire. hung out there meeting players at more leisure than they had been earlier. peed in a thicket for the first time ever. the end.