borderline drunk - the perfect combination between tipsy and tipping over sideways, the best thing that you can do is network. But if you network, arrange a gettaway car to pick you up on the hour or you might stare into the eyes of some tall, dark handsome stranger for a little too long when your tall, dark handsome stranger awaits you in your gettaway car. But write about it. Write about the time that you were brave enought to network with random strangers, the time that you didn't let your social anxiety get the best of you. The time that you downed a beer and told strangers about your life without the awkward pauses, instead with the smile that radiates from the gender-neutral bathroom mirror (holy urinal!) when you've had two kiltlifters on an empty stomach. (which, btw, is that smile, that wink-and-point "you're looking good kid" when you know that it's past time to go home.)
And then, late in the happy hour, folks show up who don't drink. Who are these people, sipping water, and what do they want with me and my smile and my leaning in and my arm resting on their arm, comforting, the perfect combinbation of listening and tipsy and I've-never-cared-about-anything-in-the-world-more-than-your-nonprofit-lifestyle.
My carriage awaits. It's good to have a rescue, a stratch-your-nose-it's-time-to-go-buddy sitting across the table. And even better: prince charming, pulling up in your shared chariot.
We live big, brave lives in 930 square feet. For shy people, I am brave, sometimes, and I am so brave with two beers. I could take on the world, sometimes. I swear.
This is what being an adult it all about, right?
