PLEASE DON'T LOOK!

Every now and again I have the duty of attending cocktail parties. Cocktail parties are a necessary evil that was designed to keep me humble, self-conscious and on guard at all times during the event. There are parties from work, the agency and different events that I have attended and I hate them all!

Once I enter a building, especially alone, I immediately become self-conscious. Am I walking like a dork or an old man? Are my clothes too big from the weight I lost? God, do I need another haircut again?

I enter and someone directs me to the party and entering I survey the room for someone I know to talk to. I go to the bar and order a Jack Daniels Manhattan while everyone else is drinking white wine. (Bunch of sissies) and so I mingle. Then the finger foods start to show up, a tray held by a young lady or young gentleman who shoves the stuff in your face.
I look at the food and naturally, I'm hungry which is a bad thing. Now I am on the lookout for the tray of finger foods, and if it looks good, I want some. It always seems that when something does look good the dumb-ass forgets to come my way and disappears! Of course, if it looks like it was refused by the alley cats, they come by with it over and over again.

But now a new problem arises. Someone will pass on the miniature fried egg rolls, why, because they are fried, no good for you and drink white wine, while mine miniature egg roll is washed down with my Jack Daniels and is half-way down by now, making for self-consciousness my trademark. I watch to see who is watching, while listening to a conversation, while trying to balance my drink and NOT poke my eye out with the stirrer, hoping nothing drips on my tie or shirt, while wiping my mouth with a flimsy paper napkin all while I try to pop into a conversation with some high-powered business man or educator while wishing I am home with TLW (The Little Woman), my feet are starting to hurt and there may be a speech or greeting I have to make.

By now my back is starting to get unhinged too! I am lost to what the Hell everyone is talking about and damned the waiter, where are those shrimp that looked so good and I didn't get any of? I look for a table to sit at, but that will look bad because it will make me look like I am unsociable, (Which I am) thinking only of food. I can hear them thinking: "Look at that low-life, bereft of conversation but plenty on his plate! I wonder who raised him?" (The same question my Mother used to ask.)