Worked with Angie Last Night (part three)

I spent like the next hour or so walking around with appetizers.

The house was amazing.

Sure, it was fancy, and huge, and signaled "we have money." But the thing that I loved was that the walls were crowded with art. Like way more dense than it should be, and completely crazy shit.

I found myself just standing and studying some of the art. I understood now what Jake meant about how he works these parties just to be in these houses.

They're like art museums. They're like palaces. Being around so much amazing beautiful stuff almost became intoxicating.

I overheard some conversations. Most were far too boring to write down. The only thing worse than witnessing people engage in status-oriented small talk is writing it down later.

At one point I carried a tray of something and stood near a few people having a conversation. The group was a young woman -- one of the people that were near my age -- and a few older guys.

The woman had that blank eyed look in her eyes, effortless lean beauty that I associate with people that grew up on the nice side of town.

I didn't love being near her. I kept seeing myself as some peasant medieval serf mucking out a stall while she watches from inside her castle.

I should describe the men. There were three of them and they were likely the age of my father. Except these guys were dressed fashionably.

I imagined for a second imagining my parents in an environment like this, dealing with people insinuating how much money they had. It wouldn't go well.

I don't know how my father would act. Maybe go stone-faced. Maybe have too much to drink.

My mother might see something in one of the paintings and then start reciting Bible verses to rebuke Satan.

Thankfully that nightmare scenario is never going to happen.

Anyhow, back to the conversation I overheard.

I remember one guy had white long hair that was clearly very well maintained. He made me think he was the reincarnation of some aristocrat from the last days of the French Monarchy.

I listened to the three men ask the young woman about her life. She mentioned some college I hadn't heard of.

The foppish guy said, "College is a time in life you can focus so much on nothing but ideas and parties and art... I learned so much about myself during that time."

Here's what scares me about what that guy said. What if he's right, and people that spend years just having fun and making friends and reading cool books and going to parties... what if people that do all that... what if it makes those people better somehow, like funnier, or more patient, more energetic, so they can go out and just do amazing things, and it becomes almost a self-perpetuating cycle?

Well that means Penny she'll grow so much. She's away, living this amazing life, and here I am, carrying snacks on trays.

At the moment, I felt my stomach drop.

I imagined Penny in the future, pitying me, but seeing me almost like an insect or disfigured and deranged person.

I'd be so hideous in her eyes she'd avoid me. Because while she spent years becoming her best self, I'd become this bitter warped person that was getting too old to be so poor.

Yikes.