The Party

Alice clutched the gilded invitation in her hand, its letters smeared from the clutch of her sweaty palm. The oak door in front of her seemed like a castle’s portal, defending the revelers inside from the cold October wind that was playing with her dress. With one last look up at the faintly twinkling stars she plunged through the ornate entrance into the party.

It had been on the second day of work, while trying to decipher the instructions on the copy machine. The two of them had been crammed into the little copy room (the one on the second floor by the elevator), each working busily, studiously ignoring the other. All of a sudden he asked with a smooth hiss, Hey, there’s a party tomorrow night. Wana’ come? Without a second thought Alice snatched the proffered invitation from his hand like a hungry vulture who had all but given up hope for the day. Yes, Thank you. It was only then that she noticed the woman standing in the doorway, who quickly disappeared as though she had never been there. The man smiled weakly, his mouth twitching as if he wanted to speak but had forgotten his lines. In embarrassed consternation he slithered out of the room before dashing off after the woman, shouting, Wait…

With a vague mixture of awe and fear Alice looked down at the envelope in her hand. With holy reverence she slowly traced the letters with her finger. Though she realized the invitation was probably not meant for her, she attributed the whole event to Fate. This was her chance — no one had ever invited her to a party before. Stumbling back to her cubicle Alice mumbled to herself, What am I going to wear…? What am I going to wear? not so much because that was going to be a problem (she only had one dress) but because she felt she had to.

Expecting to feel one with the crowd as soon as she stepped in, as if she belonged there all her life, Alice was sadly disappointed. Finding herself surrounded by loudly chatting groups that seemed to form a complex maze of paths and shortcuts from the door to the punch bowl, she suddenly realized that she didn’t know anyone there. Everywhere she looked the backs of heads greeted her mockingly. Every time her gaze fell on a group it appeared to immediately huddle closer together. And while she was standing very close to those around her, their conversation sounded like empty echoes of monkeys. Even the ceiling teased her, with its bright chandelier reflecting everyone else’s joy. It was not that anyone actively ignored her, just as one does not ignore a chair but simply takes care not to stumble over it. Alice began to weave her way through the crowd that seemed intent on halting her progress towards the little bar at the far side of the room. It was like a dance, with people gliding past each other with no more than an obligatory glance. Each move was dictated by some unknown master plan that forced its participants to whirl and dodge in and out of dark alleys. Unfortunately, no one had taught her the steps . She was twirled off the back of a broad shouldered gentleman, almost spilling the wine glass of a lady in a far-too-pink dress. Still, she moved steadily toward to her goal, though perhaps not by the shortest path.

Suddenly Alice found herself in front of a blubberous mass. From somewhere behind a mask of makeup came a chuckling contralto that seemed to float away into nothingness like the excessively expensive silk the women was wearing, My, my. Dear — what do we have here? Alice may have stammered out a response, but if so she did not remember and the women clearly did not hear her. Lovely little party, don’t you agree? continued the slightly tipsy voice. Nodding half heartedly Alice looked for a way around, like a soccer player trying to feign around her opponent on her way to goal. She was becomingly increasingly claustrophobic as the women sidled up closer as if coming in for the kill; Alice felt like the victim of a talking head, and wondered in passing if there were support groups for her when, or if, she ever got out of there. Without missing a beat the woman went on with her monologue, which Alice assumed was directed at her although she was not completely certain. Is this your first party? I remember the first party I went to, I was young then, can you believe I was young once? It was such a lovely night, just like this one and I wore a red dress — or was it yellow? For a moment Alice thought she was being interrogated, so many questions were being thrown at her, and what she thought was a pause to let her answer only turned out to be a quick sip of champagne. Of course everyone noticed me then — it was wonderful talking and dancing, but now, now I’m all alone… Alice barely heard the end of the women’s sentence because the latter had lunged off after a passing waiter for more champagne leaving Alice by herself.

Alice did not stay standing in one place long however, as the crowd began to shift again, forcing her to dance to its syncopated tune. She felt herself being drawn into the center like a miniature maelstrom. The room turned around her; you could have persuaded her that up was down, it was all the same to her. No matter what direction she looked she saw glittering dresses and smiling faces, even the hardwood floor was covered with their reflections. Slowly she realized that she was in the middle of the room, with the bright chandelier directly above her casting a soft speckled light on everything around her. Alice stood in the cliché ‘eye-of-the-storm.’ There seemed to be a taboo against walking through the middle. Her mind was still spinning and quickly lost itself in phantasmagoric trains of thought. She was quickly convinced that everyone else was avoiding her due to some horrendous disease and that she would never be able to reenter the stream of normal society again. Fear and despair welled up inside of her — she felt as though she could scream and no one would hear her. Luckily, bit by bit, her mind calmed down; in fact, after a while she was thankful for the moment’s rest and tranquility, it gave her some time to look around, like a spy. She saw fancily dressed women chatting coyly with handsome men, gregarious businessmen trying desperately to extrude an aurora of greatness and quiet waiters and waitresses darting fairy-like from group to group. It reminded her of an impressionist painting she once saw at the museum when she was twelve — but she didn’t belong in that painting; she remembered preferring the surrealists with their wild color and utter disregard of reality. Then why was she here? She hadn’t even really been invited. Now here she was, standing in the middle of a room like a dumb beast just staring around itself in amazement.

Alice tried to think it through, but her thoughts kept circling around her, taunting and heckling her, prancing between the other guests darting out here and there. But she was determined to get through this, if only to show that she could. She wondered to whom she had to prove herself. She told herself that she was being silly and childish, yet still she knew that she had to show that she could survive here just as well as anyone else. Now all she had to do was step back into the crowd, which defied her to go where she pleased. It seemed to whisper, ’I dare you to come back and try to overcome me, I dare you.’ With an apprehensive smile Alice slipped back into the crowd unnoticed.

Alice felt like a pinball, bouncing from group to group without forethought, but this time she knew that everyone else was just as lost as she. In light of this realization the whole party seemed comical, a farce put on for the walls’ amusement, and before she knew what she had done Alice laughed aloud. Some laughter- Alice looked up into the face of a tall handsome gentleman. A nice change from all this somber correctness and your name is? continued the smooth voice. I’m Alice, she responded a bit too loudly. Are you now, said the man somewhat surprised, what a strange — and interesting, came the hurried addition, -name, ended the man hesitantly before turning his back and disappearing into the depths of the crowd.

Alice felt oddly powerful; the mere mention of her name could drive people away! With this renewed sense of strength she went on, sliding peacefully between two groups, and sidestepping a rose-pink dress with military precision. But before she could take another step a tall blond woman accosted her. Why hello there, are you having a good time? Of course you are; everyone always has good time at my parties. I’m sorry, I don’t think I know who you are; my husband must have invited you, I suppose you work with him…? Alice was hypnotized by the woman’s glittering smile and could barely speak. Um… yes, I’m new, I just moved here.
How nice, continued the woman, as if afraid of even the slightest silence, Well welcome, I have to go check to see if there is enough wine, make yourself comfortable. As she left Alice could hear her mumble, Who is she… and what is she doing at my party?

Finally, Alice managed to step somewhat gracefully up to the little bar and away from the nameless and overdressed crowd. By now she had lost what little confidence she had and was quite ready to turn around and go straight home. But before she got the chance, the tall curly-haired bartender looked her over with an amused eye and said, May I help you? Just some water… please, Alice responded hesitantly, too afraid not to respond because she was sure that the bartender would otherwise report her immediately to the hostess, and preferred to leave with as little attention as possible. Here you are, said the bartender extending a glass of water as if it were some sort of peace offering. Thank you, Alice said quickly and began to turn away when the bartender asked what seemed no one in particular, Nice party isn’t it? Mechanically Alice responded, No! Surprised by her own answer she tried to make her escape but was held in place by the suffocating crowd. An honest answer — you must be new at this. Alice nodded, somewhat abashed as if she were a school girl. That’s okay, you’ll get used to it after a while… everyone does. But Alice didn’t want to get used to it. She liked hating it; she liked feeling superior to everyone who was schmoozing around her. It was her versus them, and she wasn’t going to sell out. She would win. She must have been thinking aloud because the bartender responded while filling the glass of an old bent-over man, You’ll just keep on suffocating, and you really think this crowd cares? Go outside — get some fresh air or go home and give up; but don’t hang around here with that attitude. He concluded with a nod of his head in the direction of the door home. Alice felt herself take a step that way, yet with uncharacteristic stubbornness she whirled around, accidentally bumping into a portly gentleman who whispered, oh my, just loud enough for her to hear.

In search of fresh air Alice found herself outside on the little lawn that grew behind the house. The stars greeted her warmly but she did not see them because of the profusion of lamps. She wished that she could take of her shoes and lie down on the grass — and would have had it not been for the many eyes that seemed to follow her every move. The ring of darkness that surrounded the lawn and patio beckoned her, but as she stared into the shadows Alice suddenly became afraid. The trees and night animals were laughing at her; she had lost. Unable to find her place within the complex dance of the party there was no choice left but to leave.

It was past midnight when Alice finally arrived home. Wearily she climbed the stairs to her apartment, listening joyfully to the music of the creaking steps. She dropped her dress and invitation on the floor and sank into her bed to dream of magnificent parties and dances.