Contempt of a Great Man (Part 2)

The next day, a young man with a nice suit and a slightly crooked tie rang my doorbell and handed me an invitation. I didn’t really know what to do with the young man standing in front of me; I didn’t know if I should tip him or not. I reached into my purse located next to the door and handed the man a five dollar bill. I could tell that he was desperately confused so I shut the door and ran into my bedroom, far away from the front door. Evidently, you do not tip someone’s assistant; I’ll remember that next time.

I arrived at the party fashionably late; I always hated being the first to a party and having to stand awkwardly waiting for another guest to arrive. My cousin’s apartment complex was more elaborate than I expected. The lobby was painted a dazzling color of yellow and had lights that shimmered off the walls. The invitation said his apartment was located on the eighth floor of the building. I casually walked towards the elevator and quickly saw a man who I wouldn’t soon forget.

He had chestnut colored hair and deep blue eyes, but more importantly, his eyes were looking at me. He stood in the elevator in a statue-like stance and his mouth formed into a crooked smile. I felt like I was in the presence of a God and I had no idea what I should do. One of my choices was to step into the elevator and stare blankly at the beautiful man standing next to me. My other choice was to take the stairs up to the eighth floor of the building and most definitely arrive at the party as a sweaty mess. If I knew then what I know now, I would have taken the stairs without thinking twice.

I stepped into the elevator, my head to the floor the entire time, and looked at the elevator panel. I gulped at the sight of the already-pushed eight button and glanced up at my elevator companion. He was still staring at me and I could almost feel his eyes burning into my body. I felt the need to start a conversation, but my mouth was temporarily paralyzed. I had interviewed a few good-looking people in the past, but none of them caused this reaction I was feeling.

“Are you going to Mr. McCall’s party?” he asked, breaking the uncomfortable silence.

“Yes,” I stammered, “he’s my cousin.”

The man smiled again and asked, “Are you Meg?”

I didn’t know how this man knew my name, but I was almost honored that he did. I glanced at him and I must have had a shocked look on my face because he began to laugh.

“Your cousin has told me about you,” He explained, “You seem like a very interesting person.”

At that moment I wished I had never picked my nose, danced in my underwear, sang a horrible karaoke song, or any of the other embarrassing things my cousin had seen me do. I didn’t know what he meant by “interesting”, but I suddenly remembered every single embarrassing thing I had ever done in my entire life.

“Yeah,” I muttered, not knowing what else to say, “I guess I am.”

The elevator came to a halt, the doors opened, and I bolted out of the elevator without looking at the man. However, I was in such a hurry that I went in the wrong direction down the hallway and had to backtrack my steps. On the way, I noticed that a few doors I passed had a small yellow lion near the top of the door. I thought it was a little tacky to have a lion on your door, but overall I didn’t think much of it. Who am I to judge if something is tacky or not; I still wear a fanny pack once in a while.

When I finally arrived at my cousin’s apartment, the man that was in the elevator was standing in front of the door. The paralysis that had affected me in the elevator had come back and I was unable to speak. Luckily, after a moment, my cousin opened the door and ushered both of us into the apartment.

“John!” my cousin exclaimed, “I’m so glad you were able to come! Oh and you have met my cousin Meg.”

“Yes,” John answered, “we met on the elevator ride up here.”

“Yes,” I blurted, fearing that my silence would be considered rude, but still not having anything else to say.

John smiled and asked, “What do you think about getting a drink?”

“Ok,” I gushed and proceeded forward towards the large table at the far side of the room.

As we walked, heads began to snap in our direction. By the looks in the room, I could tell John was well-respected. The men in the room smiled at us and stepped out of the way when we were near, while the women glared as if they wanted to murder me.

John poured two drinks and handed me one of them. Without taking his eyes off me, he took a sip and smiled.

“Not a big drinker?” he asked as he pointed to the drink in my hand.

“No,” I replied as I took a sip.

“I’m not much of one either,” he said, “Let’s get this drink down and then we don’t have to drink at all for the rest of the night, ok?”

He gulped the rest of the drink down and then winked at me. I began to wonder why this man wanted me to finish my drink so quickly. It wasn’t as though we couldn’t just sit the drinks down and forget about them. For some reason John wanted me to finish the drink he made for me.

Being like a little schoolgirl, I was so mesmerized by John that I would do anything he said, including finishing the drink which he had drugged.



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