The Party

I knock on the door, the door opens, and I am in heaven. This is where I belong. The party is where I thrive. As I throw my jacket on the chair, I notice the mood and feel of the party. The lighting is dim, the music is blaring, and the people are everywhere. Awesome.

I am the social shark. I move around from guy to girl to guy again. Everyone loves me. Girls want me, and guys want to be me. I enter the conversation, and people look at me in awe. They know that I am the social force to be reckoned with. I enter a conversation, and then like the wind, I am gone, off to give my social graces to another lucky party-goer.

But wait, there she is. The goddess of my dreams is standing in her group of friends chatting up a typhoon. Gwen is radiant. The gods have truly blessed me tonight with this vision. Wait, she's giving me the first glance, a quick up-and-down. Now, she turns back to her friends. Okay, here comes the moment of truth, the second glance… Wait for it… Yes! There it is. She gave me the second glance. Ah yeah, I am the man. Now's the time for me to move in and make the kill.

"Hey! Who's cheap, scummy leather jacket is this?"

I look behind me at the moron who's trying to yell over the roaring music.

Damn.

Damn. Damn.

This worst of possible situations has come down on me on this blessed night of nights. Franco, the football lineman from Hell, is holding up my jacket. I look back at Gwen, and, damn, she's noticed the huge ape of a man making a scene. Now, I am screwed. Well, let's try to communicate with this monkey. Maybe hand-signals will work…

"Hey, Franco, that's my jacket." I yell.

"Is this yours, kid? Oops, I dropped it." belches Franco as he throws my house key to the other side of the room to his buddies. What a jerk! He was searching through my jacket. My jacket. I grab the key as it hits the ground. I am ready to explode. Franco is going to wish that he was never even born. Suddenly, I feel a hand on my shoulder. Ready to take on the world, I whip around, and… standing behind me is my angel.

"Franco shouldn't be stealing other people's stuff. You're Steve, right?" says Gwen. I melt on the inside. My dream-made-flesh just spoke to me, let alone touched me. I am butter. She has melted me. Am I still standing? I feel like a pile of putty, ready to be molded in the hands of an artisan like her. Waiting for a response, I sputter something at her. Meaningless dribble, I am sure. I wait for her response, her blessing to me. I am dumbfounded.

The conversation continues about how bullies shouldn't mistreat the weaker, younger guys. I just nod my head, and say what she wants to hear. Realizing that she is referring to me and my weakness, I try to make myself more manly without making myself look like a poser. I need help.

Gwen turns around as one of her friends yells from across the room. "It's time to go." says her friend. Gwen turns around and heads off without even a good-bye kiss. Who does she think she's talking to? Get up and leave in the middle of conversation. I am not going to let her get away that easily. Grabbing my jacket, I leave the party.

Outside, Gwen and all of her friends are just sitting around chatting about "this" and "that," so I wait for my opening. As soon as she says bye to her last friend, I pounce.

"Oh hey, sorry I had to leave so quick in there." says Gwen. "My friends get in such a hurry sometimes. I had a good conversation with you. What are you up to now?"

Alright, Steve, here's the moment of truth. Think. What does a maiden like Gwen want to hear? I feel around in my jacket for inspiration. Grabbing my fakeID and some car keys, I think about going down to the West End where all the bars are, and say, "Well, I was thinking about driving over to Smitty's or that Irish pub down in the West End. You want to come?"

"Oh," says Gwen, "that's cool. I think that I am just going to go home. It was nice to meet you." She then gets into her car, and leaves.

Slam. There it is. No luck for me. Boy, do I feel ditched. I had her in my hands, and I let her get away. Boy, am I a putz. I suck. Maybe that bar isn't such a bad idea. I'll go drown away a couple of sorrows.

Jumping in the car, I drive over to Smitty's. I sit down. The barkeeper looks at me square in the eyes and knows that there is a problem. "Wanna a drink?" he says.

"Yup." I reply, and that starts it going.

Things are getting a little blurry now, and objects aren't staying where they are supposed to be. Plus, I am not feeling too good. I need to get home. I settle up with the barkeeper, and head out. Outside Smitty's, I realize that I need to get home fast, but how? What do you know, I have car keys in my pocket. Oh yeah, I drove over. Nice. I am the man.

I didn't realize that the key slot was so small. Maybe, I oughta tell Ma and Pa about that in the morning. Man, this driving is easy tonight. Looks like I am going to zoom home. Cool, I always thought that this road took longer. Tonight is my lucky-Where did that-Whoa- My head slams into the dashboard as a tree stops the motion of the car. Things are fading…to…black.