Responses
You’re wandering around the party with a drink in hand. You spot someone on the sofa absently scrolling through their phone. They look interesting. You sense a story. So you introduce yourself, they say their name, you ask:
“What do you do?"
*
"I’m an economics postgrad. How about you?”
The conversation flows easily. You enjoyed yourself, but you’re not sure if you’ll remember it. Something unsaid, unasked, lingers out of reach.
*
Their eyes flit from their phone to the distant corner of the room, barely acknowledging your presence.
”Oh, you know, this and that,” they say.
”This and that?"
"Yeah.”
This is obviously a lost cause. You decide to make an excuse to leave — never mind, they’re already back to scrolling.
*
”I’m trying to get good at adulting, with mixed results.”
You eye him critically. He looks to be in his late 20s, well-dressed, calm. You don’t think he really has a problem adulting.
*
”Just got back from backpacking in Europe! The world is such a big, beautiful place.”
You nod along as she describes staying in hostels, seeing ancient ruins, meeting all sorts of other travellers, feeling close to nature. You know the texture of this conversation. It reminds you of many first dates. She recognizes the texture too, but is caught in the pattern now…
*
”Professional Netflix binge-watcher. And you?"
"That’s not your actual job, is it?”
His face falls just a little. You think he was looking for a smile with that quip. You feel bad.
”No, I’m an investment banker.”
You feel even worse.
*
She stares intently at you, quiet, time stretching. Just when you’re about to break the silence, she rises and walks away.
You frown in confusion. For a brief instant, something momentous was happening.
*
”It’s weird that this is the standard conversation starter, isn’t it? We should do more interesting questions."
"Uh…"
"So, would you rather fight 1 horse-sized duck or 100 duck-sized horses?”
*
Her gaze fixes on the ice cube in your drink. As it melts, she declares, “That’s the last glacier, and you’re witnessing its end.” Before you can respond, she produces a rubber duck from her pocket and hands it to you, whispering, “For the next ice age."
*
"I do, I don’t, I might, I won’t. It’s a collage of decisions and indecisions, you know? But today, I’m doing this party.”
*
She begins to open her mouth. There’s a slight sadness in her eyes, as if she knows she will dislike the words that she’s about to say. Then her expression sharpens, like she’s completely abandoned her previous train of thought, and she says brightly, “I’m an economics postgrad. How about you?”