Anxiety Party

The pot on the stove was now boiling over onto the stovetop as the heat had finally overcome the cold of the frozen dumplings. The sound of another guest was knocking on the door to be let in and the buzzer was going off requesting to let yet another person in the front door downstairs. “Good God,” Dexter thought as he rushed to put out literal and figurative fires. He darted out of the kitchen and then noticed that the foam container holding all of the non-alcoholic drinks was already leaking on the floor and half of the 20 people invited had already arrived. Dexter was now totally overwhelmed. “Throw a birthday party,” they said. “Celebrate yourself,” they said. “You deserve this,” they said. The words echoed through his mind, teasing him, as he navigated the minefield of guests holding plates and drinks so that he could buzz the door.

Dexter then pushed a smile onto his face as he cut through the room of his apartment where he saw that his guests had already eaten half of the meats and cheese, called a word he could never remember, board. He noticed that he was sweating as he pushed the door button to buzz in the next friend downstairs while simultaneously opening the apartment door to reveal Mariel.

He whipped his face into a smile and in one breath said “Hi Mariel! Come on in! I have finger foods here, more dumplings are coming out, grab a drink, non-alcoholic stuff is below the table, careful not to slip, and the punch bowl is filled with a cocktail I made with Baijiu - it’s a Chinese alcohol. Very special. I have an old ipod running over there”, he said as he gestured toward the TV. “Pick any 80s song and add it to the list. It’s part of the 80s theme. Let me just deal with this dumpling situation.” 

“Great party!” Mariel said as she made her way inside.

“So great” Dexter replied and he hoped sounded natural.

As he made his way back to the kitchen thinking, “Is it weird that I said that all in one breath?” and being sure to smile, he hoped it resembled a smile, at his guests as he darted through he noticed at that moment that he wasn’t the only one sweating. Everyone was. “Oh God.” The air conditioner is on full blast but it just couldn’t compete with the 11… no, 12 human furnaces now in his tiny New York apartment; plus the heat from the stovetop now overflowing with boiling water. “Shit, it’s only been 20 minutes, how did this get so out of control?” Dexter thought to himself as he hid his panic with an expression, that he still hoped resembled a smile, as he made it to the kitchen. 

“You’re making me look like an asshole, Mr. Stove!” he said to the pot with boiling dumplings. “And why didn’t I think to buy bottles of water during a heatwave,” he muttered to himself as he began refilling the one-gallon jug of Spring Mineral water, he thought would be enough but was absolutely not, from the sink.“Why did I even think this was a good idea?” he asked himself as he filled the jug for his guests. 

The whole idea came together when his best friend Ben asked him what he was doing for his birthday and when he said, ”Not much,” Ben threw out “Dude, throw a party!” 

“Where would I do that?” Dexter retorted.

“You’re place.”

“My place is tiny!”

“Dexter, you came to New York to plant roots. What better way to do that than to invite the friends you’ve made here over for an old-school New York-style apartment party?” said Ben with the utmost confidence.

“Everyone will hate my place. It’ll be standing room only,” Dexter retorted. 

“You think people come to New York for the space?! New Yorkers don’t need space!” he said. That’s what Central Park is for. They just need a place and a drink.” 

Admittedly, it was a good idea. But like any good idea, it can look great on paper but totally fall apart in execution. I mean, look at communism. Very nice book! Mr… Marx was it? Yes, great read. Would you like to see what we’ve done with it? Guards, open gate and show him!

Another buuuuzz! indicated that more guests were at the front door. Sweet Jesus, not only did 20 people agree they are also showing up on time! Dexter’s mind was racing with one part appreciation for friends and one part anxiety - shaken and stirred - as he realized that 20 people can eat and drink much more than his math calculated. “How do parents with kids pull this shit off!?” Dexter thought to himself. “Back when I was a kid birthday parties were fun. Are you telling me that the entire time I was stuffing my face with cake my parents were in a blind panic behind the scenes? No wonder James Matthew Barrie was so fascinated with childhood and never wanted to grow up. Yes, I’ll write a tale in a land called Never Never where no one will grow up! He clearly understood that being an adult sucked more than having a bedtime.”

“Can people see the panic on my face through my smile?” Dexter panicked to himself as he made his way back to the door hopping over the puddle as he made a mental note to get a towel. Just then, Mariel came up to speak to him, or pounce on him, and he thought, “Yep, she can see it. She’s going to say that she can see that I am freaking out and that I need to sit down while a real adult takes over. I’m as cooked as those damn dumplings”

“Hey, Dexter, do you have any more toilet paper? I noticed that you’re out.” Sweet Jesus. “Yes, of course! No problem, let me grab that for you. I thought I had enough but, you know, more people, more paper, ha-ha.” He reached up to the top of the shelf hidden behind the door and grabbed a roll. “Enjoy!” God, that was stupid, he thought. Why would you say enjoy? And who’s going to finally invent those three sea shells so that we don’t have to wipe ourselves with wads of paper anyway?

More guests came in the apartment door, greeting with heys, yo’s, hi’s, and come on in’s. Dexter intercepted the guests at the door like a goalie stuck on the American Soccer team. Everything would get through. “Sure, put your bag in the bedroom. That’s no problem. I have finger foods, more dumplings coming, grab a drink, non-alcoholic stuff is there, careful water, the punch bowl is a Baijiu cocktail - Chinese alcohol. Very special. An old iPod is running over there,” he gestured towards the TV. “Pick any 80s song for the playlist. 80s theme.” 

“Okay, that’s getting shorter.” he thought. That’s progress, right?

“I was so happy for the invite!” said the new guest Judy.

“So happy,” Dexter squeezed through his teeth that he could only hope didn’t look like the nervous smile of a rabbit in a box; in the middle of a field surrounded by wolves. 

“I’m just going to use the bathroom real quick” she said. “Jake, make me a Baijiu whatever,” she yelled to the other new arrival, but three Jakes turned their heads. “Jesus,” Dexter thought. “Why do I know so many Jakes? There are three Jakes here alone. What happened in the 90s that created so many damn Jakes? I didn’t even realize until this moment!” 

“Okay, focus,” he told himself. “Just serve more dumplings. That’s all you gotta do. That’s all you gotta do. That’s all you gotta do. Yes, this is good. It’s like a mantra. Just keep repeating that. It’s not helping but maybe you can fake it.” Before Dexter could make it to the dumplings, Ben grabbed his arm and gathered the crowd for a toast in the center of the room. “Okay, everybody, shut up! You too Madonna!” as one of the three Jakes intuitively paused the ipod. “Let’s raise a glass to the man who brought us here. The once dashing but now distinguished, because I think I see some gray hairs, Dexter!” Laughing, clapping, and cheers ensued and then died down. Then the worst sound that one can hear at a party instantly cut through the crowd. Silence. 

Everyone’s attention and eyes looked toward Dexter. “Sweet Jesus,” he thought. It’s quiet because they are all looking at me and expect me to say something. This must be how ants feel under a magnifying glass just before the sun is focused to fry them by some snot-nosed kid from Indiana with nothing better to do all summer.” It was the quietest it had been since he was in bed last night, on his third attempt to finish Player Piano, before sleep. Dexter gulped and he was sure the sound was so loud that his neighbors heard it as well. Then one of the Jakes broke the silence by yelling out, “Is nobody going to say it?… Happy Birthday!” Everyone joined in saying Happy Birthdays and words of agreement before “speech, speech, speech!” began to be chanted.

The cacophony died down and then again, silence. Dexter gulped again and this time he was sure his neighbors would complain to the super about some weird plumbing problem in the walls. He cleared his throat and raised the glass that Ben had thrust into his hand at the expecting crowd in hopes of saying something meaningful, brilliant, heartfelt, or funny. Dexter looked around and with glass raised said, “To Neverland.”