Jekyll & Sloppy

The other night I had the privilege of being invited into the social cauldron that is "house party."  After not having set foot in one for many turns of the moon, I must say it was fun to spend the evening with the usual cast of characters---the wallflower, the douche, the creeper, the schemer, the networker, the insane down-for-anything guy, the bored-looking hot girls, the guy debuting his new outfit, the plus-one who doesn't seem to have come with anyone, the hostess with the mostess, and so on and so forth.  Oh, and of course, the girl who's had a bit too much to drink.

I guess it's not unusual for a party to have a drunk person or two.  And, arguably a lack of intoxicated people is an indicator of a failed party.   Still, it was weird seeing this girl stumbling around and just plain sloppy, you know?  More so given her age.  Sloppy is definitely less flattering than it was before.  Adding to to everything was my knowledge that when sober this girl is a delight.  A real stark contrast with tonight.  Jekyll and Sloppy, perhaps?

This wasn't the first time I'd seen Ms. Sloppy make an appearance at a party or other social setting.  And each time I see it happen, I can't help but wonder why this delightful girl does this to herself.  Is it some kind of crutch to use in social situations?  A way to attract attention to herself?  A sickness?  I guess ultimately it doesn't matter.  Or rather, it does matter but it's nothing I really have the right to meddle in given that we are barely friends, even in Zuckerberg's realm where the rules for affixing that label are much more relaxed.

Plus, how do you broach the topic?  As I'm apt to do, I'd scripted out the whole exchange with this girl in my mind (because doing that works so well), and it always ends with her irate and asking me to simply "mind my own fucking business" or something to that effect.  But perhaps tonight will be different.  I did spy a full moon outside.  That's gotta count for something, right? I regroup and reedit the exchange:

Girl: Why don't you mind your own fucking business?

Me: Because I care.  You're an absolute delight.  You're a smart, funny, beautiful girl who radiates confidence and ease.  Blessed with a killer laugh and a smile to match, any room you enter is the better for it.  Life's given you a world-weary wisdom but it hasn't extinguished your childlike wonder.  And did I mention those eyes?  Like a tractor beam (that's a good thing!).  Your soul is warm and bright and all things good, and it pains me to see you drown it out with drink.

Of course, she'll never hear that.  Not tonight.  At least not from me.  No, as I'm perfecting the script, I hear a loud "Crash!," followed by the girl being whisked away into the night by her friends.  The merriment ceases as the party goers rubberneck to watch the scene.  Once concluded, and after some judgmental whispers are exchanged, the party continues.  Her unceremoneous exit is a mere blip in the evening's festivities, at best fodder for some post-party gossip tomorrow.  As for me, I'd lost my appetite for festive and left the party shortly thereafter.  On the drive home a pang of regret for a missed opportunity.  And, my realization that it's unlikely I'll be crossing paths with this girl any time soon.

But when I do. . .

--KM

"So let go; jump in.  Oh well, what're you waiting for?  It's all right 'cause there's beauty in the breakdown."