Talking to walls

The other night I went to a Russian party with lots of rich Russian folk. I didn't know anyone at the party except my one Russian friend who invited me. Okay, less of a friend and more of a person who I recently discovered has my addict's habit of waiting at exactly 7:45 am every morning at the cafeteria to get my coffee and bagel fix. We usually smile and toe the floor awkwardly, making absurd comments like, "Gee, I really need my coffee this morning!" or "I really need to start buying own coffee instead of this cafeteria shit." All the while attempting to keep our eyes from roving maniacally towards the freshly brewing coffee. Needless to say, we've bonded. Sort of.

Being at a party where everyone speaks Russian is an odd experience. Being one of the few non-Russians-- a dull black head among freakishly bright bobbing blondes is even odder. There really is not much to do but swallow lots of vodka. I dragged Melon and Licorice with me and we started drinking alcohol like water. When we finally spotted a couple of American students, we nearly fell on them. Turns out they were a dud. One of the guys started to attempt to talk to me, and desperate for English, I waited to hear what he had to say. Nothing much, apparently. Instead, he was one of those guys who stared a lot and didn't say much. In normal life, or dating life, this would be GREAT. He'd be classified as a "good listener," and whoever dated him would be deemed a lucky girl. At a party though, these strong, silent types are just... well, boring. I might as well have talked to a wall.

Melon and Licorice were lost in the crowd by this time (probably dancing to the Eurotrash music) and I realized I was physically wedged between this dude and the wall. More like I was wedged between two walls. So I reverted to my normal NP behavior when I'm talking to a wall--- I talked incessantly to amuse myself. I cracked jokes, laughed at them myself, told stories, smiled at the recollections, and made lots of hand gestures to look as Russian as possible. While I was in the middle of doing this, I noticed that Strong was not only staring at me, he was laughing at my jokes. So I went on and on. Pretty soon I had a group of 3 pple around me, listening to my little standup routine. Self-centered? Narcissistic? Yeah, that's me. Especially when I'm bored. Things took an awkward turn when Strong attempted to dance with me. It got even more awkward when I finally got bored making jokes to myself and started to leave. Strong followed me wherever I went, got me more drinks, attempted to make conversation (true to his breed, he couldn't get very far).

After that night, along with inquiries into my dating life from his friends, I learned an important lesson. Apparently, when NP talks crazily in a desperate attempt to amuse a wall, the wall can actually talk back! Three words only though.

"What's your number?"