District Sleeps Alone
Bryan might be right. I should write something. I just have little to say here anymore.
Last night, my friend Ryan threw a party at his apartment. I just, for the first time, realized that Ryan’s name is the same as a friend I had in from grade school through junior high. Not that it’s an uncommon name, or a big deal… I just never connected that. And right now, it struck me. So I write my thoughts…
Anyway. There was a party. And I didn’t know anyone other than Ryan. But there were maybe 20 people there. All drinkin’ and spending their good time together. For awhile, I stood isolated, calling some friends to see if they wanted to come keep me company. Eventually, I threw cares into the air and said my ritual, “Fuck it,” and became a social animal. A social predator even. Whenever new people showed up, I’d spot them, and go in for the kill:
“Hey, I don’t know you, but all the same, my name’s David.”
“I’m Ashley.” “I’m Dave.” “I’m Pablo.” “I’m Simon.” “Cara.” “Jessica.” “Tim.” “Eric.” “Priscilla.” “Allen.”
Allen was my assistant in keeping the peace. As he said to me, “You’re the brains, I’m the brawn. If there’s a problem, you just call on Allen.” But that is what I did through out the night in my own way. Acted like I was the host. Made sure everyone was alright. Did what I could to get whatever anyone needed. I also made two servings of jell-o shots, first time I’ve ever made jell-o at all, not to mention jell-o shots (they turned out alright, Lime Tequila and Vodka Orange). But… the only problem… there were many long pauses where no one needed anything. And I was left in limbo. Typically, during those times I just began dancing to the music I had playing at the party. But then there were also those times I just felt empty.
Main point. I sunk into this social event, where I knew no one and should have by all logic of who I once was been alienated and awkward all night. The crowd came to know me, and I them. I was versatile, flexible, neutral, able to mix with everyone there. They came to like me, and I enjoyed them. I even had one girl comment that I was “the sexiest guy” there. Considering there were 10-15 other guys there, all of worthy attractiveness to a girl, this comment was a rarity. Also, she asked me, as she faced her posterior at me, “What do you think David, do I have an ass?” I looked past her “back” and up at her face awkwardly, “Well… yeah… it, uh, seems like you do.”
This same girl even at one point asked my age:
“I’m 21.”
“That’s okay then. I could do you. I’m 18.”
Now, I had never had this directly said to me… a girl openly stating that she’d sex me up, so it didn’t naturally register in my head. I thought, “Do me what? I don’t… oh! Do me! Oh wow…”
I was the last man standing at the end of the night: 5 a.m.
And so I went home. A night well done.
oh wow, you are the man.
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You know, this is certainly worthy of telling people in 10-20 years too. Your story made me smile, and that’s cool. And yes, in the words of Sean Connery in Finding Forrester, “You’re the man now, dog.”
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ha! do me what?
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that is interesting. I love when cool things like that happen. *hugs* I’m really glad you wrote.
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awesome : ) (also good to hear from you…)
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go get em, tiger.
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i knew you were secretly a charming gregarious social butterfly. -heather
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