rahm's chicago.

SUPERficial PARTY!

It's chilly outside. You shift your stance while standing in front of the building, but you can't do much else. You're not sure what the apartment number is, but you can definitely already hear the thumping music emanating from the basement. You make your best guess and ring a doorbell; seconds later, a random stranger lets you into the apartment. The stranger doesn't live in that apartment, but he figures that more people will continue to trickle in as the hours go by, and so it's better to leave the door open from now on. It's only a matter of time before the apartment gets so jam-packed with people that the mob spreads out onto the front stoop, sharing cigarettes and downing flasks.

As you make your way through the apartment, familiar faces and friendly smiles react to your arrival. People that you haven't seen in months (or years) embrace you or pat you on the back. You throw your jacket inside someone's bedroom and go serve yourself a drink. Now what? You take a good look at the crowd around you, and you spot a friend whom you've known for a while. Her presence makes you feel glad that you decided to go out this particular night, even though it took you forever to get there. While you're not necessarily chummy with her (or most of the people present), you realize that it's nice and comforting to see acquaintances in a social setting on a regular basis.

You're catching up with your friend and learning about the new developments in her life, when a guy suddenly grabs her by the arm, lifts her up and fondles her inappropriately. You barely know this guy standing in front of you. In fact, you two have never even spoken to one another - but you did frequent the same parties back in college and you do have many mutual friends. Not only is this person somewhat unknown to you, but over the years he's also been categorized by many people as quite the epic douchebag. You don't know this to be true (after all, you two are barely acquaintances), but you have heard substantial testimony from several friends affirming this statement.

At that point he starts talking to you head-on, which instantly makes the interaction awkward. You try to change the subject and duck his inane and cryptic rants, but it doesn't prove fruitful. Then you try to ignore him altogether by trying to catch someone else's attention. One again, it's pointless. As the minutes progress, you notice that this guy simply cannot sit still for one minute. The music gets louder and more pervasive, and he joins in with the beat almost immediately. He obnoxiously bumps into people while dancing - gyrating like a spastic monkey - and in the next instant he's yelling at the top of his lungs and chugging an entire container full of booze. At that moment - with the guy giddily causing a big scene and fondling any person he can get his hands on - you realize that your preconceived notion of him is, in fact, accurate. He is one unabashedly EPIC tool. Worse yet - he's the Michael Bay of tools.

Despite his obtrusiveness, you somehow manage to evade him effectively, and you re-orient your attention toward a newly familiar face - a girl you met in the last couple of months. You walk over to her and initiate a conversation - and she responds - but her slight nano-second of a pause makes you realize that she didn't immediately recognize who you were. Still, you ease into a conversation with her, and you two appear to be naturally comfortable with each other. She seems to be genuinely interested in what you have to say, and her lively personality and freewheeling spirit make you like her even more. Most of what you're talking about is trivial, yet now you begin to test her, to see if she is as understanding and receptive as she looks. She's locking eyes with you (a good indication that she's being attentive) and chuckles when you make a half-hearted joke. So far, so good.

Finally, you take the leap: you mention a private aspect of your life in hopes of connecting with her on a deeper level. You choose your words carefully and do your best to come up with an eloquent, insightful way to describe something personal to you. You're getting to the crux of the conversation - the moment where your story is injected with a witty punch-line to offset the serious, mature tone that came before it - when you notice her eyes shifting around the room. Oh no. Is she looking for someone to save her from the conversation? Then it happens: she is yanked away by another girl and, in an instant, quickly excuses herself and leaves you standing alone.

You approach the liquor counter and serve yourself another drink. This time around, though, you make the drink stronger. A lot stronger. That way (you think), some of these people will be much easier to grapple with. Most of your friends are walking around, socializing randomly...but what about those other acquaintances? You've spent inordinate amounts of time with them for the past five years, yet - do you really know them? Real friends are easy to pick out from a crowd - but then there are those other people. Faces that smile, laugh and compliment you on your shirt, your successes in life, even your dance moves - but never seem like they genuinely mean it. Faces that talk incessantly about seemingly complex issues - yet what comes out of their mouths is nonsensical. While deep down you try to think to yourself - they can change their ways, I know they can - the fact of the matter is, it's not your concern if they do or not.

Drunk and angry, you leave the party abruptly without telling anyone. However, despite your lousy mood, a more hopeful attitude begins to seep into your mindset. One that makes you realize that, for every insincere person in the world around you, there's always someone reliable and unabashedly loyal who will provide the much-needed levity and candidness that you're looking for. Amidst all the self-adulation and shallowness that permeates through one's social life, a little honesty does go a long way.