Party people

When you get to the party, the very first people you see are the people near the door who are the very people that you are anxious to avoid talking to, so you walk right by.  Immediately afterward you are accosted by the people are keen to talk to you even though you have never had anything much to say back to them.  Shaking them off, you then become enmeshed in a conversation with the people who you'd like to talk to but who you can't hear because the music is too loud so you are reduced to nodding, smiling and laughing at what seem to be appropriate moments.

In order to get out of that mess, you strike out across the room but are waylaid by the people who are very drunk and sling their arms around your shoulders and mouth breathe through their winey teeth at you and tell you how very drunk they are.  Simultaneously you are trapped by the people who stand too close to you and never break eye contact.

Fortunately you are able to direct your attention towards the people who you'd like to talk to some more but can't find again after returning from the bar.  Instead you briefly talk to the people who you'd like to talk to some more but don't seem very interested in returning the favour.  That awkward situation is interrupted by the commotion caused by the people who only turn up to parties to undress, but in the confusion you are carried away and thrust against the people who are spouses or partners of boring and unpleasant people and who turn out to be even more boring and unpleasant than them.

You manage a brief interlude with the people who you feel like you could be good friends with, if only your relationship could progress beyond the point of making the same stupid in-jokes to each other every time you meet.  Standing with them are the people who tell the same limited repertoire of stories to you over and over again.  Finally you are able to take a breather with the people that you get along with so well that you don't actually have to talk at all. 

Later, you find yourself stuck with the people that you would like to talk to some other time but but at the moment are too preoccupied with getting stupefyingly drunk.  So instead you talk to the people that you feel obligated to talk to because of some tangential social connection rather than genuine interest, so you're counting every minute until you can find a decent pretext for escape.  This is provided for you by the people who sidle backwards into you and force you up against a piece of uncomfortable furniture.  So you make your excuses and talk to the people who you don't want to talk to at all but do because otherwise there would be nobody to talk to and you don't want to stand there alone.

And finally you have a quick chat with the people that you always assumed were idiots so you've never bothered to talk to them before but have only now discovered how interesting they are and that they're leaving town forever tomorrow.

What a night.