Mar. 2nd, 2014 08:19 pm
Tout est bien
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
muckefuck9 o'clock last night I was feeling awfully sorry for myself. I had cake on the table, a Sazerac assembly line laid out on the counter, and no guests. The two people who had told me they were on their way were, frankly, the two I was least interested in seeing--Coleman and Stumbles. I questioned again whether any of this was even worth the effort when I had to put so much energy into encouraging people to come in return for vague promises more often broken or just silence. I had bleak visions of struggling to make conversation with my two guests and spending the rest of the week nibbling away at a fancy cake I needn't've baked.
By the time the doorbell rang a few minutes later, I'd forced myself to reconsider. Instead of lamenting that only the social misfits in my set could be relied upon to come to my gatherings, I should be regarding them as true friends for making the effort to come out in the latest of many winter snowstorms. In was in this frame of mind that I went to the door prepared to play the grateful host and when I opened it I found...Scruffy? Scruffy, who invariably RSVPs and never comes empty-handed. "Think fast!" he said, hurling a package of Ferrero-Rocher at me.
Coleman was next (which was less than ideal, given the Scruffy finds him no more tolerable than most people), but he was followed in quick succession by Big Time, his supposed sociopath of a roommate, and the ginger half of the JET boys. By the time Stumbles had wandered into the room (true to form, he had inexplicably forgotten the buzzer but found both doors unlocked), things were well underway, with some of the gang on their second Sazeracs. They proved so popular I think I'm going to have to ensure I have the makings at all times (which I pretty much do anyway).
When Twilight Santa made it his business to urge Scruffy to make an appointment for a colonoscopy now that he's turned 50. From there, the conversation drifted to the subject of serial killers. Since BT was present, we also touched on gay porn again. Scruffy kept dangerously flinging bonbons at everyone and had to be scolded not to stab the remains of the cake in an attempt to find the coin no one had ended up with. Without![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
clintswan to hurry me, I was able to change leisurely before heading out to the bar.
In short, a success. I seem to have met my aim of making BT into a social acquaintance without the need of Graysong as an intermediary. He even confided in me a bit at the bar after piling four more drinks onto the three I crafted for him. He has a wide circle and I can only hope he's singing my praises among it. So self-esteem crisis averted--until the next one.
By the time the doorbell rang a few minutes later, I'd forced myself to reconsider. Instead of lamenting that only the social misfits in my set could be relied upon to come to my gatherings, I should be regarding them as true friends for making the effort to come out in the latest of many winter snowstorms. In was in this frame of mind that I went to the door prepared to play the grateful host and when I opened it I found...Scruffy? Scruffy, who invariably RSVPs and never comes empty-handed. "Think fast!" he said, hurling a package of Ferrero-Rocher at me.
Coleman was next (which was less than ideal, given the Scruffy finds him no more tolerable than most people), but he was followed in quick succession by Big Time, his supposed sociopath of a roommate, and the ginger half of the JET boys. By the time Stumbles had wandered into the room (true to form, he had inexplicably forgotten the buzzer but found both doors unlocked), things were well underway, with some of the gang on their second Sazeracs. They proved so popular I think I'm going to have to ensure I have the makings at all times (which I pretty much do anyway).
When Twilight Santa made it his business to urge Scruffy to make an appointment for a colonoscopy now that he's turned 50. From there, the conversation drifted to the subject of serial killers. Since BT was present, we also touched on gay porn again. Scruffy kept dangerously flinging bonbons at everyone and had to be scolded not to stab the remains of the cake in an attempt to find the coin no one had ended up with. Without
clintswan to hurry me, I was able to change leisurely before heading out to the bar.In short, a success. I seem to have met my aim of making BT into a social acquaintance without the need of Graysong as an intermediary. He even confided in me a bit at the bar after piling four more drinks onto the three I crafted for him. He has a wide circle and I can only hope he's singing my praises among it. So self-esteem crisis averted--until the next one.
Tags: