Speaking at Parties

Yesterday I was thirty-three, or was it thirty-four? It wasn't thirty-five. In my head, I felt twenty-one, but I'm sure it was thirty-three.

The stranger looked at me with a blank expression. She looked perplexed. She must have thought something like, ‘How can you not know your own age, mate?’

She said, “How do you not know how old you are?”

I said, “Um. I dunno.”

It was silent for a bit.

“Haha,” I said. “Weird.”

The awkwardness felt like thick syrup. Time ground to a halt. My mind raced to find something to say. It drew twenty-one blanks, and the best it came up with was “Um.”

The stranger was very polite in the way she turned around and went to speak to someone else.

I decided that I shouldn’t speak to people at parties. Drinking, smiling, laughing — yes. Speaking — no, leave that to the professionals.