Social blunders

There was a time when I was confident in company. When I could work a crowd. When fear of making a fool out of myself didn't occupy my mind while perching on bar stools and making idle chit chat. It used to come so easily. An effortless communion. But now? I'm out of practice. Most of the time I feel like a complete imposter. Like any second I'm going to make some massive slip up, some horrendous gaffe, and I'll be forever cast out of pleasant company. This is all, of course, ridiculous. I know that. But it is never more evident than when meeting new people. This time was no different. I met Trouble for drinks on Friday, and, as usual, I was a nervous wreck leading up to the meeting. The first five minutes I was an idiot, and a dumb idiot at that, not being able to think of a word to say. The minutes passed; I got more comfortable. I didn't slip out of my seat or dribble wine down my chin and I don't remember insulting anyone, so I loosened up enough to realize that this was going to be a really good time. And it was! I enjoyed myself immensely, once I let myself off the hook. She's kind and easy to talk to and funny and whip smart and silly and generous. So thanks, Trouble, and I hope we'll do it again some time!