“I need to go to Ikea to get some frames.”
“Okay. . . but why?”
“Oh for my art show at the gallery next week.”
This is how my boyfriend announces to me that he is having his first art show.
“Is there going to be a reception of some kind?”
“But why not? Don’t you want your friends to come out and see this? It’s kind of a big deal.”
“I mean it’s cool, yeah, to have my stuff up for people to see. But people probably won’t come.”
“Listen, do you know who you are dating? I am an event planner! I just mentioned the reception to you and planned it in my mind. It’s done. We’re doing it. The end.”
Mr. Darcy isn’t one to call attention to himself. Unless you get him riled up in a political discussion.- then you might find it hard to get him to shut up. (He can’t help it. It’s a family trait.) (Also, it’s kinda sexy.) He also labors under the delusion that no one will show up for him. That’s why I had to throw him a surprise birthday party (where in everyone, even people living on the eastside of town, came to celebrate him). That’s why I had to force an artist’s reception on him. Because he doesn’t know how to let the limelight shine on him, even when it’s warranted.
And he’s dating me. Me, who likes to celebrate her birthday for a good week. Me, who does not shy away from talking in front of large groups, making friends with perfect strangers, who plans huge fundraisers and parties for a living. He’s totally in for it, right? Right.
So we sent out a Facebook and email invite to everyone we know. We got some beers and some wine. We raced home from work to get to the place to set up and wait for the friends to arrive. It’s a small place so it felt packed the entire time- and it was a great turn out. DUH. People like him. And want to support him. And besides, we had free booze.
Did I mention we didn’t have time to eat any dinner beforehand? Couple that with the booze and well, um, yeah. . . I got mighty tipsy. Like fun tipsy not falling down drunk. Like by the end of the party when we were cleaning up, I pretended to drink from an open bottle of wine (because I didn’t want to waste it! Cough.) Like when I repeatedly cried out “chicken sandwich!” because the place we were all going had this yummy chicken sandwich and I was starving.
When I was finally eating it I declared it the best chicken sandwich I’d ever had. Sincerely. Forever and ever. Amen.
It was a really good time. Thanks to all who came out!