Monday:

As the air conditioner blasts cold air up my moisturized legs, I look down at my red dress and think "What the hell am I doing again?"
I throw my mother's SUV into park and bite my bottom lip. I flip the visor mirror down one last time to screw in my fake smile as I exit the vehicle. I drag my feet behind my mother and sister, trying to strain my memory all the way back to last year when I first attended this charity banquet.
Now, my mother is NOT mother theresa, but her gay, african american co-worker just might be. Every year, instead of getting us Christmas gifts, he buys us a seat at the Elijah's Promise Dinner: A Fight to Stop Homelessness and Hunger. So the three of us throw on fancy dresses, strap on smiles, and attend.
I am tired, sweaty, hung over, and in no mood to save the world. My mother's friends are seated at two tables. My mom and sister put their stuff down and I take a seat at the other table, since all the seats at theirs are conveniently taken. I look up and smile, realizing I'm the only white girl at the table. No big, shit like that doesn't intimidate me. Besides, I'm friendly enough. I extend my hand to the 30ish year old man next to me.
"Hi, I'm Whitney, it's lovely to meet you."
"WHAT'S GOOD, I'M CHICKEN."
"Chicken?"
"YEA, CHICKEN. SPEAK A WHICH, IMMA GET SOME."
...exit Chicken.
I stare in disbelief as Chicken saunters off, shake my head back to reality, and introduce myself to the other people at the table. When Chicken returns (with a plate full of chicken) I notice that his shirt is unbuttoned almost to the middle of his chest, revealing ridiculously sculpted muscles, maybe appropriate for DJai's in Belmar, but not for a charity banquet.
I excuse myself from the table, on the hunt to find the nearest bar, while at the same time, making sure to glare at my mother and sister. They smirk back. I hate them.
I find an empty bar station in the back corner of the ballroom and eye up the bartender. He looks like he doesn't want to be here, so we already have one thing in common.
"Can I get you something, miss?"
"You can get me out of here." I smile, so he knows I'm only semi-serious.
"How about I make you a drink strong enough to make you think you're in outer space?"
Where have you been all my life, I think to myself. I nod my head in agreement.

I walk back over to my table with my space camp drink in hand, realizing I haven't paid for it. I turn around quickly, making eye contact with the bartender who just winks and waves me on. My day is getting better.

I sit quietly, listening to Chicken talk about the BP Oil spill, how the NBA has gone to hell, and how he doesn't get what happens at the dry cleaners. I clap when someone wins the 50/50. I smile when an ex-homeless person gets up and gives a speech about how Elijah's Promise saved her life. See Jane pretend to be an upstanding citizen.

I get up to get another space camp drink, only to realize my new favorite bartender has been replaced by a 40 year old platinum blond. She must have sensed my disappointment.
"Oh honey, don't you worry, Jeremy's just outside having a cigarette. He'll be back in soon."
"Oh... no, it's not big deal, I'll just take a vodka tonic."
"Ha, okay sure. You know he's been staring at you. You with that gentleman on your left? The one in the pink button down?"
...fucking Chicken.
"Nope, he's just an acquaintance."
"Well, why don't you go on out and say hello to Jeremy. And don't tell him I said to do so! This one's on the house."
I convince myself that I could use the fresh air anyway, and walk out onto a patio, overlooking a giant green lawn, big enough to be a golf course. I see Jeremy leaning over the rock banister, staring out, looking emo. I don't really do emo. I turn around and walk back inside, graciously taking my seat next to Chicken.
The banquet ended, and this time I boarded the back seat of the SUV, letting my mom drive down the parkway.
As she started to tell me that I drink too much, I closed my eyes and went to sleep.

Audaces fortuna iuvat,
Whit