So I'm at this party in Brooklyn a few weeks ago, and while I'm there I run into this friend of a friend that I've met once or twice before. He's a physicist- totally adorable (chuckles from the crowd)- and, as with everyone at parties in Brooklyn, way cooler than I am. I don't know why I always feel out of place at events I've actually been invited to, but, well... I do. I'm nervous now in fact. No, really (stifled giggle).
So anyway, we start talking, and I'm trying not to get drunk but at the same time actually kind of trying to- you ever do that? "Oh no I'm tipsy how'd that happen hee hee hee?" (laughter) And he mentions this website, about a guy that- and I'm not making this up- wants to go to the zoo with Roy Halladay. Now I don't know if you know who Roy Halladay is or not, but he's a pitcher for the Philadelphia Phillies baseball team. He's kind of a big deal. Anyway, so here's this totally dreamy- oh my god who says that?- physicist from Manhattan going on and on about this stupid website and I think to myself, "Can it be? Can he be just as out of place and dorky as I am?" It's marvelous, right? I start envisioning awkward dates where I try to feed him from my plate but the cherry tomato falls from my fork before it gets to his mouth and rolls off the edge of the table (uproarious laughter, the storyteller also succumbs) and we try to ride a tandem bicycle only to fall over (the crowd loses it). We're part of a montage (the crowd applauds)! It's all working out. "It all may just work out", I tell myself. Maybe I've fit in all along! My therapist will be so excited for me. We talk some more, I pretend to be interested.
And then somehow someone overhears him. The inevitable anti-climax, right? (Sigh) Right. And he- this person I now hate- tells the gorgeous physicist from the Upper East Side that was by now supposed to be planning a picnic for us this weekend how his cousin, a screenwriter- A SCREENWRITER! (it doesn't get much more hip than that)- that surely listens to bands that nobody's ever heard of that sell out clubs which also have never been heard of actually found out about that dumb site a few weeks back and it's blah blah blah. Suddenly my not knowing, even if it really isn't an issue... well, it's just another way of me making myself feel out of place- the uncool outsider. It becomes one. I slink away, but by now they're talking so emphatically that a slight wave- a nod- is all that's required. Adieu. "Oh well", I think. I never liked physics class anyhow.
(Applause. Cue The Magnetic Fields' The Luckiest Guy on the Lower East Side)