The Reluctant Party Animal

The Reluctant Party Animal

Okay, that’s it. I’m going to the party.

There’s no way I’m going.

These are all my friends.  Of course, I’ll be there. The camaraderie with people I see far too rarely; the food I would never prepare for myself (deviled eggs? I don’t even know what’s in them, but Gina’s are so good). So why am I nervous? This is the first time I’ll be in the same room as Amy since the break-up. I don’t know if I’m ready for this.  I’ll have to see her with her new boyfriend. Won’t that be fun. Do I want to put myself through this? Wait a minute. I don’t know if she’ll even be there. Well why not, they’re her friends too. On one hand, I should have popular opinion on my side, she did dump me. (do I mean popular opinion or sympathy? Whatever). On the other hand, she stuck it out for five years waiting for me to propose, which never happened. So maybe I lose points there.

Hell with it, I’ve got to go. My absence will be conspicuous. I can just imagine the stories. “He just can’t bear seeing Amy with anyone else”. “I think he’s probably taking a break from socializing until he heals”. “Yeah, we don’t see Barry anymore. He just sits in his apartment, eating Hagen-Dasz and watching ESPN”.

Screw that, I’m going.

So, what do I do when I see Amy? Let’s review my options: 1) I can assiduously ignore her. Of course, this will mean I’ll have to be tracking her presence carefully. That seems like a lot of work. I’ll be constantly looking for her, and at her. That sucks. 2) I can go right up to her and say hello. From here I have a) and b) options: a) I just say “Hi, how are you”? She’ll say “fine”. And before she can say anything else, I’ll say “great”, and walk away. This will leave her boyfriend to ask, “who was that”? and she’ll have to explain it. That should create some tension; or b) I say Hi, how are you”? and then I introduce myself enthusiastically to the boyfriend. I ask him what he does, and we launch into a long conversation where I pretend to give a shit. All the while, out of the corner of my eye, I’m watching Amy squirm. 3) I can just go to the party, touch base with my friends, catch up, have a few drinks and some food and if I happen to bump into Amy, I just play it by ear. Who am I kidding? It’s got to be number three. The first two take too much initiative and effort, neither are my strong suit.

In any event, I need to look as pulled together as possible not wearing any article of clothing Amy has given me in the five years we’ve been together. (Now that I think about it, that will be a challenge as my wardrobe before we got together was largely from the church thrift shop).

Okay. I made it.

There’s already a lot of people here. I am not going to look for her. I am not going to look for her. I am not going to look for her.  I’ll probably hear her voice if she’s at the party. But I don’t want to hear it. I don’t want to know. Okay, I need to talk to someone, anyone, so I can focus on just what I’m listening to. There’s Peter. Great. He will talk about his wife who left him for an accountant, and that’s all he’ll talk about. It doesn’t matter what subject you bring up he’ll find a way to make it about Gloria. In my more sadistic moments, I’ll ask him about something that he couldn’t possibly associate with her but somehow, he manages. I brought up pro football knowing Peter couldn’t care less about it, but don’t you know, he tells me that Gloria had a New York Jets jersey she wore all the time. Hey this is working. I’m just hearing Peter talk with an overlay of Santana in the background. Uh-oh Now there’s a lull. I hate lulls. And I find myself selecting out voices without looking around. I don’t want to look around. I don’t want to see Amy. I don’t want to know if she’s here. Damn it I do want to know, and I do want to see her, and I do want to talk to her, and I want to ask her how she could do this to me. Was that her? I’m not going to look. I could ask someone at the party if they’d seen her or just look for her. Nope, not doing that.

Here's Janet. Now she’s asking me how I’m doing. Not “How ya doin”? when you’re just starting a conversation, or you haven’t seen someone in a while. It’s “How are you doing you poor pathetic wretch, and how did you manage, to climb out of the wreckage of your life and make your way to this party”? For a moment, I think about soliciting some sympathy, acknowledging the real meaning behind her question. But that brief idea allows the realization of how hurt I am rise to the front of my brain and proceed to will it away. I just say, “Doin great” and proceed to make some middling accomplishment at work, sound like I won a MacArthur genius grant, and then talk about the planned vacation to Mexico which I make up on the spot.

I say goodbye to Janet, get another drink,  and proceed to casually stroll around the party with my vodka and tonic doing my David Niven impression. At the very least I’m determined to give everyone the impression that I could care less whether Amy’s here or not. The second drink is kicking in and I’m pretty mellow.  If I hear her voice, I just won’t react. Oh, damn, there she is.