Well, this past November, it was off to another Secret Handshake adventure! This time it was held at the Arkadash Bistro and Lounge. It’s a pretty swanky place. Though it bills itself as a bistro, it is much more of a lounge. Very trendy place. Very cocktails and martinis. Meant I was quite out of my element. And while I’ve chosen a very 60’s retro-beatnik style for the illustration of this post, the place was very modern in its decor. The mod references are a little forced and is really just alludes in sprit to the type of hip, urban style that I think the Arkadash is going for. The only thing retro going on over there was all the bad 70s ‘staches going on in support of Movember and Prostate Cancer awareness. And besides, it was an excuse to totally rip off Shag more than anything else. And a chance to browse through some Tiki symbols buried under the Adobe Illustrator interface.

Not only was I totally out of my element in a hip, urban, downtown lounge, the more lounge atmosphere rather than a pub style atmosphere meant the dinner menu was of a much more lighter fare. And while some of the items sounded rather interesting, (mushroom pate anyone? how about Toenail of a Dog?!) my large appetite (and very empty stomach) said this was going to be a short night out. I work in an industrial park far from Winipeg’s Exchange district, and I take the bus. Most of these Thursday outings, take place in or near the Exchange. Makes sense as the majority of Winnipeg’s finest creatives either work, live or regularly hang out there. So for me, I usually go there straight after work and just order something off the menu as soon as I get there. Not so much this time around. Oh well, if they have it again there I’ll just go home first and grab a quick bite to eat, see my wife (and future child) and THEN head out. Stomach well filled.

The rest of the evening was quite fun. Filled with lengthy conversations regarding Internet security. Mostly surrounding passwords. And their utter failure to protect anyone from the dangerous hacker crowd out there. I just love how we have to create lengthy, complex passwords that I either have to write down somewhere (thus voiding the security of said password) or I have to hand over everything to a program like Lastpass and hope they can do a great job of protecting everything. Or memorize random alpha-numeric strings of ever increasing complexity. Not my idea of fun. Or really all that doable. All I can really say is this, my Dad was a cop for 27 years and he said a “Locked door keeps an honest man honest.” Or in my words, “If I want your stuff badly enough, I’ll get it.” Passwords (or any security measure) are great for making sure that most folk behave themselves. But there’s going to be a certain crowd that for whatever reason, just won’t abide by it. We as a society just have to make certain that we try to treat each other humanely while online, have at least some system of accountability to keep everyone honest, and a way of dealing with people who get out of hand. Dealing with social ills that might make it tempting for people to hack accounts would help too. Otherwise, it’ll be more and more labyrinthine password protection schemes. At least until someone figures out biometrics to prove you are who you say you are.

Whew, enough of that!

Before I left for the evening in search of my dinner, I had one little problem to take care of. You see, there’s quite a few people who come out to the Secret Handshake events now. And the Arkadash isn’t exactly huge. The bar was rather overwelmed. I still needed to pay for my drink. Thankfully I am one of those honest people I was talking about earlier (well, mostly anyways). They guy taking all our orders when I first got there didn’t ask me for any money, and must have forgotten to set up a tab. And while I had only ordered a soft drink, I thought it rather impolite to dine and dash. The hostess thought it wasn’t a problem, but I had her check with the manager just to make certain. The last think I need is to show up some other time with my picture on the wall, marked for refusal of service. Here’s to fingers crossed…