A Titanic Wingding Of Epic Proportions: Part Three

For the past two days, I've been recalling a recent party of unusual proportions. As I go through it in my mind, I cannot think of any time in the evening during which I was left out in the cold, conversationally speaking. This is a real hazard for me. I managed to string together deeply engrossing exchanges all night, forming and cementing new friendships in the process. That's what it's got to be about- not neglecting friends in favor of making friends, but just having the bravery to escape the comfort zone and grow. If one isn't growing, one is dying. I don't have the gall to claim that I've reached my developmental peak as a person, and so I always feel the impulse to talk to new people. Sometimes I even act on it. In a sense, parties are the very setting in which I was built to communicate. Wherever I am, I'm loud, enthusiastic and boisterous as I speak. In a library, it gets me shushed. On stage it gets me singled out for praise, but in a party, it's the only way to be heard.

Helping me along follow through on my impulse to mingle and talk to new people was that indispensable social lubricant alcohol, about which I have not said much. I had neglected to bring some, and was properly chastised for it by one of the hosts, whose words along those lines always land with effect. Luckily, the birthday boy himself had been out procuring provisions, and I was able to put the call out to him for that. In my mind, it became a matter of critical urgency, and I just could not be parted from my phone until he arrived. It was like I was waiting for word from the hospital on the condition of a loved one. If there's anything of that evening about which I'm not proud, it's probably my panicky state during that period of time. Also on hand apart from that beer was a selection of other fine and less-fine beers, along with hard cider and hard alcohol, which I stayed away from.

As always happens, people began to melt away until the point at which the party could no longer be called an active concern. Sometimes the night then ends, and sometimes a new social engagement arises from the ashes of the old. So it was on this occasion. When the fort finally came down, it was to facilitate the restoration of the dining room table for beer pong. I had demurred at the suggestion of playing, as I had considered my alcohol intake to have been sufficient. Of course, my resolve weakened, and I wound up playing some. There was also a little lark of a game called 'flippy cup' that I was introduced to. I had seen it on an episode of 'It's Always Sunny In Philadelphia', but things you seen on that show are not usually things that you feel an eagerness to attempt in real life. It was fun.

In spite of our best efforts, the party did eventually draw to a close, but not before making its mark on all of us. It shall undoubtedly live on in the memories of those who knew it. I knew in advance that I would not for anything miss it, and nothing that transpired served to change my assessment of that, not even having to help pick up afterward. I look forward to reminiscing about it in person with other attendees, and the sooner the better. I guess there's nothing more to say than that unless pictures surface which compel further explanation.