Cocktails

We are at a large party, you and I. We don't know each other, but we found ourselves accidentally making eye contact and without someone to talk to. If we don't make the effort, we are both doomed to stand in the corner of shame with the plants.

We exchange names and we share a small moment of coincidence of something both of us find dull and never to be remembered. Our eyes dart around, revealing that neither of us enjoy pretending to be interested in where the other grew up. We both see other groups of people, all having a good time. Our eyes briefly meet again and we both think, "That could be me if I weren't here with you."

Right when we are both going make a poor excuse to leave each other's company - your friend is running late and need to check your messages to be sure she isn't lost and I lost the knife I was going to use to slit my wrists - we see someone coming towards us with a cocktail. Up until now, we weren't aware that they were being served, but either they were a Valkyrie from Valhalla or we just found the perfect excuse to leave.

There's a little journey you and I experience trying to find the table with the cocktails. We joke a little about how hard this seemingly simple task. We have moments of discovery - one side of the room seems to have more people holding beverages than the other. We follow the trail until we find the table that overflows with empty red cups. We high five in victory and pour out our libations. We give a quick toast, take a drink. We might have become party pals but at that moment, you see your friend - the one you thought might be lost. I let you go get her so she can enjoy the booze without the struggle you and I went through. Our eyes meet once more as you make your way back and we both think, "Those moments of boredom were worth it to get to this cocktail."

I don't know if blogs are the cocktails or the awkward pairing, but either are a welcome distraction at the party until something interesting happens.

If I seem down on myself, you should know that after you left, I began making fun of your fashion sense with my new friend, the plant in the corner of shame. After a few cocktails each, he's a brilliant conversationalist and he's single. In a few more, he may even become straight!