Friday, May 12, 2017

"The Less I know The Better"



"The Less I Know The Better" by Tame Impala


                I was running towards the elevator with my twenty-dollar black stiletto heels that I bought last weekend. Probably not a good idea to run with them on. What if I trip and fall in front of everyone? That would be embarrassing, and the talk of the night unless some drunken idiot vomits all over himself in an attempt to pick up a poor girl just trying to have fun. Luckily, I didn’t become that awkward girl that night, and made it to the bar. I hate running late to anything, especially a party because once you arrive after everyone gets there, their eyes all flutter towards your direction. All of a sudden, you are the center of attention, and I hate being the center of attention.
                I’ve always been introverted probably since I was born, but knowingly since I was in high school. I faded into the background of my adolescent peers, which is how I preferred it. It’s probably the second reason why I decided to write about music artists. I can write about someone else and their work, and make them the center of attention. The first reason being, because music has always been my pleasant space. I guess you can say I have fallen in love with it, and we’ve been in a rewarding committed relationship ever since.
                As I walked inside the chic modern style bar, I walked into a room full of music. Thank God. It was loud enough for people not to notice I arrived an hour late to the party, and I avoided that dreaded, “who just came in?” stare. I looked around to observe all of the guests, in their fancy cocktail clothes. I saw my friend Zara standing by the far left of the bar, laughing and shoving a man’s arm. She’s probably talking about her trip to France over the summer. She’s been obsessed with regurgitating the same details about a hot bellhop who worked in her hotel, and gave her the “best vacation she ever had”. There were a lot of people I didn’t know, which was starting to give me a panic attack. I hate going to parties, they’re so stressful. Going around a room, saying hi to a bunch of people you never even spoke to in your life, and hearing them talk about themselves over and over again. The only reason why I came tonight was because it was my good friend Thom’s birthday, and I already flaked on him last weekend, when he asked me out for drinks and two weekends ago when this new restaurant opened. Thom is a good friend, and it’s his birthday so the decent thing to do is to at least show up for his birthday.
                I gazed around the room one more time, to see if I could find someone I knew. I walked deeper into the bar, turning my head left and right trying to find at least one person. I was starting to feel ridiculous, and was hoping no one noticed how lost I looked. The room was starting to feel warm, maybe from my anxiety and probably from the bodies moving around this confined dark wood structure. I was starting to sweat, and then finally turning my head right one more time, I spotted Thom. He was with another friend I knew, which made me breathe even more easily.
                “Oh my God. Look who finally showed up!” Thom yelled with sassed enthusiasm.
                “I’m sorry I’m late, there was traffic down 3rd street.”
                “Oh hush honey, there’s no such thing as being late to a bar party.”
                He kissed me on the cheek, then I handed him his birthday gift. He shook the box that was wrapped in black and white hounds tooth paper.
                Thom and I began catching up as we both spotted his ex-boyfriend entering the bar with a mysterious gentleman in a tailored all black suit. His light blonde hair was nicely combed over, and his stubble jaw outlined his bright white teeth. I had no idea who he was, but when I saw the disturbed look on Thom’s face, I was able to figure it out.
                “Ugh! I can’t believed he brought his new boyfriend! This is completely unacceptable!” He shrieked.
                “I thought you two were cool after your break-up?”
                “Well yes, but you don’t bring a new lover to an ex’s party. That’s completely, unbecoming!”
                “Maybe he thought, you moved on. You were the one who still wanted to be friends. Remember?”
                “But we only broke up six months ago. Wounds are still fresh!”
                “C’mon Thom, there are so many cute guys here. Look! Dark hair, muscular bod, cute smile, that seems like your type, huh?”
                Thom ignored me and continued to monitor his old flame blazing the room with his new beau.  His ex’s face lit up every time someone introduced themselves to his new partner. He put his arm around his waist, smiled at him, and when everyone was obviously looking, he gave him a small peck on his blushing pink lips. Thom had enough and turned away, and what made matters worse was when a young girl walked by openly blabbing about the new couple.
                “Yeah, I met Aaron’s new boyfriend already at his birthday party last month. He seems nice. I heard they’re thinking about moving in together soon. They’re moving so fast!”
                Thom’s eyes begin to well up with tears.
                “Well, I hope he’s happy because he ruined my evening!” He cried before walking away.
                “Thom, wait! I mean it was bound to happen sometime, right? I mean you guys broke up six months ago.”
                “That doesn’t mean I wanna hear about their moving plans!”
                I watched him go out the back. I wanted to go after him to cheer him up, but I knew he wanted to be alone. Still, I wanted to make sure Thom was okay and not crying hysterically in an alley behind a bar. As I was making my way to the back alley to comfort my friend, I hear a low voice with a southern accent behind me.
                “Um, excuse me miss?”
                I turned around to see a tall, slightly slim, average built man standing right in front of me. His light brown hair was glowing in the dim light of the bar, and his eyes were locked into mine. Were they blue or were they green? I wasn’t sure what color they were, but they were alluring. He was saying something to me again, but I didn’t hear what it was. I was completely mesmerized by his charming accent, and his low gruff voice. After snapping out of it, I was able to hear him ask me what my name was.

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