The Annual Greet and Eat, or Can I Get that to Go?

Surprisingly, parties are not my favorite things. You could say I am a bit of a wallflower. Have always been. I am much better in small groups, or when I can play hostess. So I am not exactly sure what possessed me to go to tonight's homeowner's association party (open to all residents).

Curiosity? Perhaps. Free food? Things aren't that bad yet. No, I think deep inside me was the hope that I would meet someone that I could befriend. Whatever was I thinking?

Don't get me wrong. I didn't have high hopes. My experience has been that this building is a community of strange ducks (and that's being polite). That's in part, why I think that they are forced to run the place like a junior high school when it comes to personal interactions. But I thought there just had to be one person there who wasn't too weird.

We arrived about 6:45pm. The party was already pretty well attended, especially for having started only fifteen minutes prior. So much for not wanting to be the first one at the party. These folks wanted to be the first in line at the buffet.

A woman whose mouth was full of food greeted us. She tried to swallow as she explained that we should write our names on the tags provided, along with our floor number. She said this might help with initiating conversations. The wheels in my head started spinning on how these conversations might start:

"Oh, you are on 27. Couldn't afford the penthouse, eh? Wanna be."

"I'm on 3. In my opinion, everyone above 15 is a snob."

"I'm on 26. Your floor is pretty loud. What do you do up there?"

"(Guy with a '30' on his name tag) Oh, sorry, one floor too short. We penthousers have to stick together. You understand."

The spread wasn't bad: cheese & crackers, frittatas, something B termed "a Mediterranean California roll", chicken, shrimp cocktail, fruit, salad, and desserts. Plus, a full bar (probably not the smartest of ideas considering the crowd). They were pretty disappointed when B asked for a glass of water.

We got in line, got some food and found a seat. We said hello to a Middle Eastern couple sitting across from us. They ignored us. I decided to try a shrimp with some cocktail sauce. Big mistake!

Not sure if it was the horseradish or something else, but I literally couldn't breathe because it was so hot. This seemed so odd as 1) I have been eating cocktail sauce since I was knee high to a grasshopper and 2) I just spent the last four years in Texas where my tolerance for spicy foods definitely improved. At any rate, I tried not to make a scene, put my plate on my chair, and went over to the bar to get a drink. A disappointing soda.

When I returned there was a guy sitting next to me who was definitely just there for the food. [And unfortunately, no, it wasn't Alton Brown.] He pretty much chowed down, handed his plate to one of the hostesses, said thanks, and headed for the door. Oh well.

By this point, there was a serious line at the buffet and nowhere to sit. So I considered myself lucky as I enjoyed the most delightful raspberry tartlet complete with fresh raspberries. The high point of the evening.

Keep in mind that the idea for this party was to get to know your neighbors. But pretty much people who knew each other kept to themselves. A group of Chinese women were discussing getting a dog in Chinese. [Thankfully I had my translator with me.] A group of people on the couch behind us seemed to be part of one family. Even the wheelchair constituent had a clique. The Middle Eastern couple continued to ignore us. One of the three realtors (not the one we deal with) was working the room.

I looked around at this group and thought, what a motley bunch. If this were what potential homeowners saw, I think they would run for the hills (actually the Berkeley hills are rather nice). I wanted to move. And technically could, as many of our boxes remain UNPACKED.

B tried to console me saying that the cool people who live here were busy getting ready to go to better parties. Word was out I guess that this was a very unhip party. So what were we doing there? And on that note we left.

On the way out I bumped into a former co-worker in the food line. She was surprised to see me. Thought I had moved. I explained that we had been in Texas, so she was correct in my not being around the building recently. We exchanged pleasantries, and B and I made our way to the elevator.

I think the worst of it was watching people come down the hall with plates covered in napkins, but obviously full of food. It wasn't a wedding! What nerve. And how absurd. Talk about your drive-thru mentality.

Back on the 27th floor we were greeted by the very adorable Westie that lives next door (they had left there door ajar, and he had gotten out). He understood the concept of meet your neighbors. He wagged his tail and barked hello. Even let us pet him for a bit. I felt badly that we had nothing to offer him to eat. He deserved it.