By April Duran

Campaign contributions aren’t the only way to influence legislators.

Another way is to throw a party for lawmakers, with plenty of food, drinks and fun.

I recently had the opportunity to hang out with the Big Boys for two hours when the rest of Richmond was shut down for a snowstorm. My fiance and I offered to take his father, whom I’ll call Bob, to Shockoe Bottom, where more than a dozen Democratic legislators relaxed at a local bar and grill.

Bob, a lobbyist with a major corporation in Virginia, told us he needed a 4x4 to get him to an annual get-together with some of his Capitol friends. We offered our services, as we would be four-wheeling around town that afternoon looking for snow sledding spots.

We collected Bob for his evening outing after dusk when we had thoroughly worn ourselves out on the slopes of Forest Hill Park.

Bob invited us to join him and his buddies for drinks and dinner. Although we were a bit underdressed, he said it wouldn't matter as this was an informal function - something of a tradition. He said he'd been meeting with this core group for years.

When we got to the restaurant and brewery, the group had congregated at a bar in the billiards room upstairs. I immediately relaxed as I shrugged out of my winter wear and noticed the room wasn't as dark and smoky as I thought it would be. I recognized a handful of people right away: Dick Cranwell, Vivian Watts, Jerrauld Jones, Tom Moss and Al Diamonstein.

Chip Woodrum, a good friend of Bob's, thanked us for getting him there. He said the gathering wouldn't be the same without Bob - they were like a family.

I instantly wished I had my notebook and Capitol handbooks. Bob later told me that there were a few Republicans working the crowd, but didn't mention any names. Most folks brought their retinues of staff and aides - who calmly and with plastic smiles made the rounds introducing themselves to every unknown face. They did all the grip-and-grinning while the legislators played pool, drank beer and ate dinner.

Other lobbyists revealed themselves at the bar while I waited for my turn to put in an order with the barmaid. They all had business cards and were eager to know my role with the Big Boys. Everyone asked:

• "What do you do?"

• "Who do you know?"

Only the legislators didn't lose interest after stating that I was a journalism student. They were even jovial when they realized I didn't have a recorder in their faces.

Jerrauld Jones talked about music with my fiance, an avid guitarist, and me. We discussed Jimi Hendrix and how it was a travesty that some teens didn't know who he was or his role in shaping pop music.

Vivian Watts, the only legislator who spoke about work, talked about transportation issues in Northern Virginia. I had just recently spoken to her at a committee meeting where she gave an impromptu talk to high school students from a neighboring district.

Tom Moss, meanwhile, was doing billiards tricks on one of the tables we all congregated around. Other members played intensely serious games, despite a few moves that most called cheating - at least under their breath or out of earshot of the party leadership.

Maybe if you make a stink, a big shot will sink your pet bill back at the Capitol.

Johnny Joannou, a Democrat from Portsmouth, talked about his daughter's desire to study at George Mason University, my fiance's alma mater. Joannou was worried he wouldn't get to see her often enough.

I ordered some food. But apparently when the waitress tried to deliver the meal, somebody swiped it along the way. So I had to order again. So I ended up waiting over an hour for dinner.

I finally sat down to eat after working the room. By the time I took my first bite, Bob was ready to go and was trying to pay the tab - on his employer's card of course. He seemed a bit irritated.

Al Diamonstein left the bar and grill with assistance, as the ice was treacherous, at the same time we were leaving. We exchanged pleasantries, and he echoed Woodrum's sentiment about how it seemed like a big family on these occasions.

One we got to our truck, Bob told us why he seemed so irritated while paying his tab. Someone tried to slip an extra $50 worth of food and drinks on his running tab. He paid it anyway, of course.

Some family.