At first, I was indeed intrigued. The Evite announced "A Very Special Evening With Two Couches." Hmm. Ends up, the host had just moved into a new place, and there was not much more furniture than "two couches." My first reaction was "how old are we?" And then I did the math, and thought it impossible, at this age, to move into (1) a room-mate situation, and (2) only have 2 couches as your total sum of communal furniture.
And so I went. Mainly to see the virtual make-up of this modern 30-something clan. That part was weird. I won't digress here, other than to say... office style carpet in a HOME, and well, odd jobs and what-not. The end.
I was told this was a party that started at 7pm. I arrived at 7:45 (casually late, of course). Umm, everyone (all 6 of them) was sitting at the dinner table eating a MAIN COURSE. Whoops, a little too late for the first half, not enough late for the second half. But wait... apparantly, I was the ONLY late one. And, there really wasn't a second half. No other guests coming.
Looking at half-eaten fish carcasses on every plate with a few potatoe skins and some crazy zucchini-tomato mix immediately quelched any hunger I may have had. And, oh to find a chair, and where to place it, and what do drink... all would be nice issues to resolve. Do I want some fish? No, no thank you. Just a beer. Oh, PBR or some home-type brew? PBR please.
The saving grace of this disgraceful incident? I was placed, in a random chair, next to Mark. Yum. Now some talk about him being involved with FEMA. What? He's a fireman? I wouldn't have guessed. But no, he's not a fireman. He is an art director. Yeah! Yeah for Gertie!
A few more PBR's and the awkwardness of intruding on Dinner For Six started to disolve. A little. It was freezing in there. Mark let me use his scarf, because even though the thermostat said 75 degrees, it felt like 58. Mark and I connected, I thought. The dog growled at anyone who didn't resemble his owner.
Anyway, I was 35 mins outside the City, which I don't usually do unless I'm visiting my parents or seeing a guy who has taken me to at least 10 dinners in San Francisco proper, so I got ready to leave. In the car I wished and wished and wished that Mark would leave the party before my car warmed up and he did. And he got in the car and we chatted while the car warmed up (but it never did because I had the air on cool. Woops). Oh well. I also didn't do anything other than give him real estate advice, so he'll probably never contact me. But you know what? The night outside of San Francisco, was indeed a "special evening with two couches."