Party Boy

I don't really have any friends in Ohio, and I'm usually okay with that. Sure, I love relationships and all, but didn't really love my high school friends even when I was in high school with them and certainly would find it difficult to relate to them five years later. So recently some people at the Olive Garden (hereafter referred to as the OG) have been inviting me to hang out with them. Apparently as I let my real personality show up more often at work, people like it and they think I'm funny or something. So this week Don told me he and his roommate were having a party. At first, I wasn't going to go. I mean, can I possibly relate to these people for hours at a time? Then I thought about it some more, and figured, why not? So last night a bunch of us gathered in a rather small yet pleasant apartment for games and drinks and food. I did participate in all three, but there seemed to be a few who could only commit to two of the three, with drinks being the high winner of the evening. But the thing that I realized is that even though I'm really not the big party animal, I can relate to these people. At around three five of us went to a rather dark and damp bar called the CaddyShack (I think one of the guys was hoping to meet up with some girl...) and I actually ended up having a great conversation with Jason, one of the new waiters at the OG. He recently broke up with his fiancee and we sat for about an hour at the bar talking about the decision, the ramifications, what it all meant for the future. Mostly, I just listened while he talked, but really, there was something in that moment (perhaps it was the thick, smoky fog) that was actually quite beautiful. Over Coronas and White Russians we opened up and bared some of our hearts. It's not often that I get to have a conversation like that with a 32-year-old black male, and it was good for me. I doubt that I'll be a regular at these parties, but if they always end in vulnerability and openess and a good White Russian, maybe I should be. There's always someone nearby, it seems, who just longs go get vulner-and-op, ya know? I love those moments. God bless the CaddyShack.