Saturday Night

A pink drink in the hand of a girl in blue would be the perfect way to describe me on Saturday night. Sitting alone in a booth watching people walk in searching for a familiar face and not finding one for nearly two hours. Bands played loudly and sounded good. Drunk people forgetting any sense of space and knowledge of people around them. A few more slightly familiar faces arrive. One in particular is familiar to me, mine not to her. It soon got crowded, uncomfortable. I get really uncomfortable in groups that close. All elbows and shoulders. Screaming for a bruise of some kind to find the next morning. Not to mention seeing everyone laughing and having booze fueled fun with their friends. Meanwhile I'm too socially awkward to mingle like others. My wonderful, beautiful friend tried her best to introduce me to her many friends in the room when she arrived. She makes me feel more comfortable there. A ride agreed to earlier never showed. A delve into music induced slumber prevented said ride from being possible. It happens. My wonderful, beautiful friend found me a ride with one of the guys from one of the great bands that played. The night was fun. The bands were great. I had a ride home. All I could ask for.