Three vodka seltzers down, I feel like I’ve gained more perspective on life than the Dalai Lama. All this is pointless, I tell myself as I slather on a rather obscene amount of red lipstick for the third time. Life is such a circus and here I am participating in yet another senseless charade. Could there be any meaning to this endless drinking and moronic dancing? I look at myself in the mirror one last time. I don’t like what I see but it’s time to make a move now. The first wave of music hits me and my eyes try to adjust to the neon darkness as I step outside the restroom befuddled, feeling nothing but emptiness.
Jostling and nudging, I struggle to find my way to the dimly lit counter at the bar, my suede pumps resume pinching my stubby toes defiantly. As I reach the counter, I quickly glance back at ‘J’. I see him standing with a girl who looks like she crawled right out of a fashion magazine. She’s beautiful, there’s no denying. But aren’t they all. Exquisite, flawless replicas – an assortment of paint smeared porcelain faces plastered with plastic smiles; swooning in their own glory, wine glasses in hands, radiating absolute disgust and sheer contempt. I wonder if I could pass off as one of them and the thought of not fitting in gives me the shudders. The effects of alcohol are waning and I can feel my head beginning to throb. I’m not leaving this party sober, I decide. I call for a drink and then head in their direction.
I watch her intently as she leans in close to ‘J’, cigarette in hand, bending just enough to fully bare what her dress can’t quite conceal. I can see why any man would fall for her. She’s attractive in the most cliched ways and men always find it hard to resist such banal beauty. He’s got his hand on her shoulder now and she’s whispering something into his ear – sweet profanities and lies. But he seems rather amused and I can tell he already likes her. As I approach them, it gets all too quiet for a minute. Forced greetings and bleak introductions ensue and then again an awkward silence. She finally says goodbye and walks away looking rather smug. My questioning eyes now turn to ‘J’ and he instinctively rolls his. I tell him I can’t cope up with his behavior anymore and he chuckles. He hands me his phone, turns around and meanders towards the exit. And as I see him leave the club with the same girl, I punch in the code to his phone. I take one large sip of my drink and start typing – Yes baby, I miss you too. I wish you were here, this party is so lame – and hit send. Almost instantly, his phone beeps and I tell myself it’s going to be a long night. The things you have to do for your friends!
(Images – Pinterest)