Afterparty

You are Casey. Tough luck. (set: $parking to 0) (set: $show to 0)(set: $alcohol to 0)(set: $restroomignore to 0)(set: $restroomscare to 0) After an “elucidating” evening, you step out of the now-empty bar with a disappointing clipboard in your hand and make the walk back to your apartment. You open the door to find the apartment empty; your roommate, Amos, is nowhere to be found. “Oh, wait,” you remember. “There’s an afterparty.” One of Amos’ music friends is hosting a post-concert party, and Amos was kind enough to invite you — and after today’s altercations, you could use a social outing. You hop in your hatchback and make your way to the party, just on the edge of town. You peruse the street for the correct address, but your destination becomes clear as you see tens of cars huddled together on a yard around a two-story house. Immediate parking looks slim, and the street itself is a narrow one. You find yourself with only two viable options: [[Park significantly further|trek]] along the street and make a five-minute trek to the party. [[Squeeze between|squeeze]] two aptly parked cars on the far end of the lawn.

You drive the car all the way down the street and finally find parking about a quarter mile down the way. You exit your car and start to take rather brisk strides toward the house — time is of the essence, after all. Before long, you notice a woman walking a few yards ahead of you. It’s dark, and you fear she might label you suspicious if you continue to follow her at this distance. [[Keep your pace.|pace]] There isn’t time to lose. [[Make greater strides|stride]] to walk past her altogether.

You decide that time is of the essence and finagle your hatchback between a large, red truck and a black sedan. You manage to squeeze yourself in unscathed, but as you open your door, you realize you only have a few inches between your car and the red truck. The situation is the same on the passenger’s side with the black sedan. You sigh heavily and mumble to yourself, “Not this again.” The only unobscured door is your trunk door, it seems. [[Try to squeeze|anyway]] through the door anyway. [[Crawl through your car|trunk]] and leave through the trunk door.

You keep your pace and quickly find yourself approaching the woman from behind. Upon closer inspection, you realize she’s about your age and dressed rather loosely. Before long, you’re just a few feet behind the woman on the narrow sidewalk. Your pulse starts to quicken; you want to make yourself known, but you don’t want to frighten her in doing so. You take a look around, and the atmosphere — vaguely dark, relatively secluded, and eerily silent — forebodes horror. [[Take hilariously|fall]] slow steps and fall back. [[Cut your losses|cut]] and try to walk past her.

The sooner you move past her, you reckon, the sooner the dilemma resolves. You start to take larger, faster steps, and your footsteps grow louder. As you get closer to the young woman, her appearance becomes more clear and you can tell, even in the dark, she’s about your age is and is loosely dressed. Not thinking much of it, you keep your forward pace. The young woman hears these footsteps and turns around to lock eyes with a scraggly, bearded approaching her in the dark. Within a moment, she turns around and takes a hurried pace, just between a brisk walk and a jog. Clearly, she’s rather frightened. [[Call out to her|call]] and explain you mean her no harm. [[Consider it|silent]] an overreaction and remain silent.

You want to consider your words carefully, but before long she’ll be out of earshot. In your haste to defuse the situation, you blurt out, “No, stop! I’m not gonna hurt you or anything.” She yells back, “Yeah fucking right, asshole,” before running away into the night. (set: $parking to 3) [[Continue.|ShowIntro]]

It’s clear you didn’t mean her harm, you reckon, so you let her continue her jog into the night. Perhaps it was in your best interest to say something to her, but the opportunity has passed and it’s unlikely you two will see each other again, anyway. (set: $parking to 4) [[Continue.|ShowIntro]]

You slow yourself to a snail’s pace, and you’re amused to find yourself akin to a giant, lumbering from sidewalk block to sidewalk block with sluggish, weighty steps. The young woman, however, does not see the humor in this as she turns around to lock eyes with a lanky, scraggly man just a few feet behind her — who for the past minute has been stalking her ever so slowly. She screams and runs away before you can reassure her. (set: $parking to 1) [[Continue.|ShowIntro]]

Quite frustrated with the illusory tension of the situation, you decide to defuse it by simply walking past her and taking greater strides toward the house. You take your first committed step, and the young woman turns around to lock eyes with a lanky, scraggly man lunging toward her in the dark from just a few feet away. She screams and runs away before you can reassure her. (set: $parking to 2) [[Continue.|ShowIntro]]

Crawling out of your trunk would look quite silly, you reckon, and perhaps you’re slender enough to make it out the door without a problem — not unlike last time. You open the door those few precious inches, holding the door handle in one hand, and hoist your body off the seat and through the door. Suddenly, your upper torso wedges between your car door and the threshold. A quick analysis of the situation yields an obvious conclusion: There’s not much space. [[Allow the door|contact]] to make contact with the red truck to yield just a bit more space for yourself. [[Try to muscle it|muscle]] and squeeze yourself through anyway.

You applaud yourself for your cleverness in deciding to leave through the trunk door. “No more wedding rings for me,” you proclaim to yourself. You crawl over your back seats and into the trunk and find the latch the opens the trunk door. You pull the latch, swing the door open with zeal, and lunge out of the trunk on onto the yard. You hear a loud-pitched scream and look up to see a young woman in loose clothing staring at you mortified. "What the fuck?" She's red in the face, likely with both embarrassment and anger. "Do I fucking know you? What the fuck, dude? What the fuck are you trying to scare the shit out of me for?" [[Apologize and explain|apologize]] the timing was poor coincidence. [[Tell her|overreact]] she’s overreacting to a man simply trying to exit his vehicle.

You explain to her that you found yourself unable to exit your car through either door, so you left through the trunk instead. Opening it and leaping out as she walked by, you explain, was just unfortunate timing. “Yeah fucking right,” she screams. “You just happened to fucking lunge at me out of your trunk at the wrong time? Give me a fucking break.” She storms off before you can reassure her otherwise. (set: $parking to 7) [[Continue.|ShowIntro]]

You explain to her that you found yourself unable to exit your car through either door, so you left through the trunk instead. You ask her how she’d expect you to exit the car otherwise. The trunk was the only viable option, and to be surprised by that in any way is gross overreaction. “Oh, I’m so fucking sorry I screamed after getting lunged at by a lanky, scraggly man in the dark. Give me a fucking break.” She storms off before you can give any kind of witty retort. (set: $parking to 8) [[Continue.|ShowIntro]]

You decide there’s no harm done is letting the door touch the red truck so long as it doesn’t scrape. You are gentle to press the door against truck, fearing an alarm might sound on contact. The touch, and everything remains silent. There seems to be just enough space for your body to squeeze through, so you begin to press yourself between the door and the threshold yet again. You’re almost though and make one final push to escape the door. Your body passes through, but not without a loud, shrill, wrenching screech as the door presses just enough against the red truck to leave a small white mark on its side. It’s rather unnoticeable, especially in the dark, but you reckon you had better leave the party early tonight — or at least before the owner of the red truck. You step out from between the cars to see a young woman in loose clothing scowling at you with her arms crossed. “What the fuck?” she screams, “Are you fucking trying to scare the shit out of me?” She storms off before you can reassure her otherwise. (set: $parking to 5) [[Continue.|ShowIntro]]

You decide to put those muscles to good use (full disclosure: you have none) and push yourself through the door anyway. After all, damaging the red truck in any way might have dire consequences. You press yourself back between the threshold and the door but this time push with all your might. You inch forward but keep the door pressed to your chest. You huff, puff, grunt, and exert all kinds of exasperated sounds but manage to pop yourself out of the door just as a few beads of sweat begin to form on your brow. You step out from between the cars to see a young woman in loose clothing staring at you mortified. “What the fuck were doing back there?” she asks? “You fucking creep!” She storms off before you can catch your breath to reassure her. (set: $parking to 6) [[Continue.|ShowIntro]]

Not long after, you find yourself at the door of the two-story house. You can hear the occasional drumbeat and spurts of chords from an electric guitar squeaking out from behind bass-heavy electronic music that seems to be blasting from every corner of the building. Amos and his band must be getting ready to play. You open the door and step inside to a living room with at least thirty people either standing around Amos and his band or milling about, into and out of the adjacent rooms. The sheer number of bodies makes the room noticeably warm, and the electronic music that blasts from a collection of speakers numbs your sense of hearing just enough to make the otherwise claustrophobic room rather cozy. You stand for a moment and let the warmth and noise envelop you, but just a minute later the electronic music stops abruptly, and the singer of Amos’ band starts to rattle off an introduction. She thanks the crowd for coming to the show and tells them they have a few more songs lined up just for us. Before you stands that crowd of thirty, waiting anxiously for the encore they have just been promised. [[Make your way|front]] to the front of the crowd. You want to support Amos, after all. [[Hang in the back|back]] of the crowd. Earlier tonight, you made an enemy by standing in the front, after all.

You make the noble decision to venture to the front of the crowd just as the music begins to play. You wiggle your way between the partygoers and pop out right in front of Amos, just a couple feet from the edge of their setup. You look to your left and — lo and behold — there stands the enemy you made earlier tonight: Concert Headbang Guy (or, CHG for short). CHG takes notice of you and scowls intensely. It’s clear that he’d like for you to headbang this time, rather than just tap your foot and nod your head. You take a look around and, just like earlier, most of the people in the front rows are flailing their heads violently to the music. [[Headbang along|headbang]] with CHG and the other front-rowers. [[Stand resolute|resolute]] and just listen to the music. You refuse to let CHG push you around.

You begin to flail your head akin to your peers, but you become rather disoriented — after all, this is your first experience with a real, committed headbang. The body heat radiated by these headbangers, your proximity to the loud instruments, and the violent motion of your head coalesce into a flurry of sensation, and before long you find that you’ve flailed yourself out of the crowd and dangerously close to the band. You turn around to find your previous spot, but it has since been occupied by another headbanger: a girl with pink hair and rolled-up sleeves. The band is growing visibly uncomfortable by your proximity; you’re standing dangerously close to some of the wires, and your right foot is obscuring one of the speakers. [[Speak up and ask|speak]] the girl to step aside for you. [[Try to subtly slink|slink]] your way back into the crowd.

In an effort to be polite, you raise your voice and ask the pink-haired headbanger to let you back into the crowd. It’s not clear whether she hears you, though; she seems rather lost in the music, as it were. You’re frightened to make contact with any of the headbangers — like sleepwalkers, disturbing them may have unforeseen consequences, you reckon — so you yell just a bit louder. About halfway through your pink-haired-girl-oriented proposal, the band stops playing their music, and all eyes turn to you. You’re not sure whether the band stopped because the song ended or because you managed to yell over them, but either way you are the center of attention. The girl looks to you and asks, “Do I know you?” Before long, the crowd begins to dissipate, and the band begins disassembling their setup. (set: $show to 1) [[Continue.|AlcoholIntro]]

Careful not to speak over the music, you try to map the surprisingly reliable oscillations of the headbangers and plan a route back into the crowd. In a few seconds, you have a general idea of how to dip your way past the girl with the pink hair and into the small gap just a few headbangers behind her. The band’s music begins to escalate, however, and the headbangers adjust their amplitudes to match. You still reckon you can muscle through this new configuration, so you take your first step into the crowd and are immediately struck in the abdomen by a high-velocity, low-swinging head. You gasp but find yourself unable; the wind has been knocked out of you. You know it’ll pass in just a minute, but you have no way to communicate your relative safety to your peers. Instead, all you do is keel over and wait for it to pass. Headbangers start to take notice and try to tend to you. The band stops playing their music, although in your stupor it’s unclear whether your injury had gotten their attention or the song had simply ended. Either way, a minute later you return to normal and notice the band is disassembling their setup and the crowd has started to dissipate. (set: $show to 2) [[Continue.|AlcoholIntro]]

After your “foray” into Amos’ show, you step into the kitchen to dissipate the excess body heat generated by your intense embarrassment. The room feels rather sterile: White-painted walls line a white tile floor, with a white dishwasher beside a silver sink and a white refrigerator dotted with black and white magnets. The only multicellular culture contaminating the otherwise pristine room is a haggard man in a polo and jeans, his fingers wrapped around a freshly opened bottle of vodka. It seems he hasn’t yet received the blessing of this particular grail but is eager to. He catches your eye. “Want a swig, dude?” he asks. “This shit will knock you out.” Although you know alcohol to be a warm comfort after days like these, you reckon you should at least be careful with your consumption tonight. The polo-wearing man takes a bumbling step in your direction, which indicates to you that he’s intoxicated far beyond the legal limit. He juts the bottle toward you. [[Accept his offer|accept]] and ‘survey’ the vodka — in moderation, of course. [[Refuse the offer|refuse]] and do not take the bottle.

Frankly, you’ve had enough of bickering with CHG, and you refuse to let him engage in another power play against you. Instead, you listen to the music and pretend CHG isn’t there at all. You make eye contact with Higgins, who flashes you a monetary smile before falling back into his musical trance. Suddenly, you feel a figure looming toward you, and you turn to see CHG stepping toward you with that same intense scowl. Getting a look at him head-on, it’s clear he’s either intoxicated or he’s been headbanging a bit too hard — his clothes and hair are awfully disheveled and his steps are uneven. [[Ignore him. He’s just looking for trouble.|ignore]] [[Engage him. He looks rather intent on making your day worse.|engage]]

CHG isn’t worth your time, you reckon. You’re here to watch Amos, and the less you engage with CHG, the better and more considerate a friend you are. You turn away from him and stand tall, tapping your foot to the music and making a point not to move another muscle. Your stringency is punished however, when you are struck from behind by what you can only assume is a high-velocity head. An intense pain emanates from your occipital bone as you lurch over and stumble dangerously close to Amos and his band. In a moment the music stops, but in your stupor, it’s unclear whether your intervention halted the music or the song was simply over. Either way, a minute later you recover and notice the band is disassembling their setup and the crowd has started to dissipate. A girl with pink hair and rolled-up sleeves approaches you. “Hey, sorry about that, dude, but you gotta move around if you’re gonna be in the front, or else shit like that will happen to you.” (set: $show to 3) [[Continue.|AlcoholIntro]]

You find CHG’s heavy, Casey-bound lurch very unsettling, so you prepare yourself to engage him if you need to. Although his arms aren’t raised, he gets in your face and starts speaking words you can’t hear due to the music. Still, his intimacy is making you uncomfortable, and you respond with a decisive push, which send CHG ricocheting off other headbangers and into Amos and his band. The band stops to tend to CHG, and the crowd looks to you and your newly outstretched arms. After a few moments, the crowd begins to dissipate, and you make a point to slip away before CHG comes to. (set: $show to 4) [[Continue.|AlcoholIntro]]

You decide to play it safe and not mingle with the headbangers, who have proven to be a toxic bunch as of late. Instead, you hang in the back of the crowd by the front door. Volume is no issue; you imagine Amos’ band could be heard from anywhere in this house. Rather, you find it difficult to concentrate. Because you’re situated in the back, people are making conversation with little regard for the band, and your proximity to the door means late arrivals are constantly trying to step past you as they enter. It’s difficult to stay out of everyone’s way and simultaneously enjoy the music back here. [[Focus on|concert]] the concert. [[Focus on|people]] staying out of people’s way.

You refuse to repeat the mistake you made earlier this evening and instead devote your full attention to appreciating Amos’ musical prowess. You get quite invested, and you’re starting to get a sense of what it means when people say “ride the bass.” Then again, you’re not sure whether people say “ride the bass” at all. You take a moment to try and recall anyone you know ever saying “ride the bass”, but your efforts at mental recollection are interrupted by a late guest, who pushes you aside to get by. You stumble backward and step on a cord, yanking its plug from the outlet on the wall. Suddenly, the loud electric guitar — in which you’ve been investing your cochlea for so long — cuts out. The band stops playing, and you quickly put two and two together. [[Step away|step]] from the cord as to avoid suspicion. [[Take responsibility|plug]] and plug the cord back into the wall.

It seems the crowd nor the band have yet identified the root of the problem, so perhaps you can get away with taking a step away from the cord and displacing suspicion altogether. You, amid the randomness of the crowd, take a step away from the cord — but not before you hear a voice. “Open your eyes, dipshit!” You realize that just moments ago, a party guest bumped into you, and now they’re following up on the interaction. The crowd turns to hear this voice, the only source of sound in the room at this point, and their eyes dart back and forth between you and the cord. It seems this party guest has thrown you under the bus. The band starts disassembling their setup. Hopefully that was their last song, anyway. (set: $show to 5) [[Continue.|AlcoholIntro]]

It seems the crowd nor the band have yet identified the root of the problem, so perhaps you can remedy the issue before eyes turn to you. You reach for the cord and try to pull it, but it seems that someone is standing atop it. You pull a bit harder and manage to get it free, but by now people are starting to notice your efforts. Once you procure enough slack, you approach the outlet and line up the plug. Upon the insert, a cacophony of static and feedback explodes from the speakers, and members of the audience wince and lurch at the sound. You hear a “Fuck it,” from the other end of the room, and the band begins to disassemble their setup. Hopefully that was their last song, anyway. (set: $show to 6) [[Continue.|AlcoholIntro]]

You focus your efforts on facilitating smooth entrances for the late guests; it becomes a kind of dance to step from spot to spot, making way for those who are filing in and out. You find it not unlike that one spy fantasy — in which you dodge moving laser beams to secure a precious jewel — and become rather invested in the charade. Before long, you’ve refined your steps to kind of waltz. Granted, Amos’ band isn’t playing in triple time, but the steps you take flow elegantly from one to the next. Suddenly, you realize the music has stopped, although you’re not sure why. You were, after all, rather distracted by your waltz. [[Clap.|clap]] [[Don't clap.|no clap]]

You assume that the band has just finished a song, so you put your hands together and applaud Amos and his band. The rest of the crowd turns to you, and in their shift, you get a clear view of Amos and the instruments; it looks like the singer is fixing some wires that went awry. You guessed it — you’re the only one clapping, because you’re clapping for a technical difficulty. You hear the singer mutter into the microphone, “You know what? Fuck it. Enjoy the party.” The band starts disassembling their setup. Hopefully that was their last song, anyway. (set: $show to 7) [[Continue.|AlcoholIntro]]

You don’t recall hearing the song climax or anything, but then again you don’t recall much about the music at all. Rather than look a fool, you refrain from clapping, only to have the entire audience applauding just a second afterward. It was the end of the song, it seems, and you were just as aloof of Amos’ music as ever. (set: $show to 8) [[Continue.|AlcoholIntro]]

Today has been long and stressful, you reckon, and you deserve a reprieve. You clasp the bottle, take a deep breath, and down just a swig of the vodka. You struggle to swallow it but manage, and you feel the liquid fall down your throat and then fuel the bellows of your stomach. You can’t imagine just a swig will get to your head, but the warmth in your belly is comforting, and the sentiment of ending the day with a bit of alcohol is a reassuring one. Your reassurance is dashed, however, when you receive a rather vigorous tap on the shoulder. “What’re you doing with my alcohol?” You turn to address the shoulder-tapper — it’s Concert Headbang Guy, because of course it is. “That’s mine.” He swipes the bottle from your hand. You point to the polo-wearing man behind you and explain that he was the one who handed you the bottle and you assumed it was his. CHG seems indifferent to your pleas to logic. [[Apologize|forgiveness]] and ask for forgiveness. [[Offer to pay|pay]] him for drinking from his personal supply of alcohol.

You try to reconcile with CHG and ask if you two can try this night over again. You express your regret regarding your stubbornness at the bar, and you explain you meant no ill will toward the band in the living room. You try to give a conclusory statement but are cut off by CHG, who starts to chug the bottle of vodka with a barbaric zeal. [[Seize the bottle|seize]] from him. It may be his property, but this man is going to get himself killed if he keeps this up. [[Let him chug|chug]] the bottle. An incapacitated CHG is a not-punching-you CHG, after all.

You cannot in good conscience let this man drink himself into a dangerous situation, even if he is upset at you. You try to grab the bottle from him, and in the struggle about a quarter of the bottle spills onto the floor. Once the bottle is in your hands, you look up to see a livid CHG, visibly shaking with anger. You fear he’s about to strike you, but instead he storms out of the kitchen and into the living room. You turn back to the drunken polo man, who stumbles out of the room with a sense of aloofness that you quite envy at this point. (set: $alcohol to 1) [[Continue.|RestroomIntro]]

It seems your recent altercation has distracted you from your bodily obligations, as you feel the rather intense need to find a restroom. You make a quick search around the house and find it at the end of a hallway — thank goodness. By now, the loud, bass-heavy electronic music has been reactivated, and the sheer number of conversing guests once makes even the hallway a crowded soundscape. It’s a change of pace from the relative tranquility and purity of the kitchen, but adapting to the flux in volume is not your main priority. You approach the closed restroom door. [[Attempt to open|open]] the door. [[Knock on the door.|knock]]

You stand in awe of CHG, who manages to consume half the bottle before slamming the bottle on the counter and wiping his mouth with his sleeve. It’s clear the vodka has hit him, but you’re not sure whether it will soothe him or further fuel his hatred for you. You brace yourself for the latter outcome, but CHG simply stumbles out of the kitchen and into the living room. You turn back to the drunken polo man, who also stumbles out of the room with a sense of aloofness that you quite envy at this point. (set: $alcohol to 2) [[Continue.|RestroomIntro]]

Perhaps, you reckon, paying him off might right the wrongs of the evening — even if you weren’t really at fault. At this point you’ll try anything to defuse the situation, so you offer to pay for the alcohol you’ve consumed. His scowl seems to dissipate a bit at the offer, but it quickly molds itself into a devilish grin. “Well, how much you got, then?” You look into your wallet. [[Give him $5.|$5]] It was just a swig, and he’s more than welcome to keep the rest of the bottle to himself. [[Give him $20.|$20]] It’s a pretty penny, but perhaps this will secure your safety for the evening. More than anything else, you just want him off your back.

You pull out a $5 bill and present it to CHG. He swipes it out of your hand and scoffs. “You think this is just some cheap liquor?” He swings the bottle in front of your face. “I worked hard all week to buy this bottle. Keep your chump change, you impertinent clod.” You’re taken aback by both his condescension and his anachronistic insult, and as you take a moment to remember the literal meaning of clod (it’s a lump of dirt or clay, you soon come to realize), CHG storms out of the kitchen with his bottle. You turn back to the drunken polo man, who stumbles out of the room with a sense of aloofness that you quite envy at this point. (set: $alcohol to 3) [[Continue.|RestroomIntro]]

You pull out a $20 bill and present it to CHG. He swipes it out of your hand and scoffs. “Who do you think you are, moneybags? I should’ve known you were some spoiled brat who assumes they can solve any problem with their parent’s money. Don’t patronize me, you impertinent fop.” You’re taken aback by both his presumption and his anachronistic insult, and as you take a moment to remember the time period in which “fop” was relevant (the 1670s, you soon come to realize), CHG storms out of the kitchen with his bottle. You turn back to the drunken polo man, who stumbles out of the room with a sense of aloofness that you quite envy at this point. (set: $alcohol to 4) [[Continue.|RestroomIntro]]

You politely decline the drunken man’s offer, but he’s rather adamant about delivering the bottle to your hand. He continues to jut the bottle at you, but you refuse to take hold, making the noble decision to abstain for the night. The man makes one final, particularly violent jut toward your hand but loses grip of the bottle in doing so, and before you can catch it, the bottle falls to the floor and smashes. You get the sense that he is too intoxicated the understand the gravity of, well, gravity. He’s broken glass on a kitchen floor and spilt a little less than a liter of vodka to boot. You turn to the doorway to see if anyone has chosen to investigate, but you’re in the clear for now. [[Do your best|clean]] to clean up the mess. [[Flee the scene|flee]] the leave the drunken polo man to his judgement.

Even though you had nothing to do with the incident, you take it upon yourself to keep the other partygoers safe and clean up the shards of glass and puddle of vodka. You search a nearby closet and find a mop, a broom, and a dustpan — and you grab a handful of paper towels from the kitchen counter. Equipped with the proper tools, you take to cleaning the floor while the drunken polo man watches on rather aloofly. After your first few passes with the mop, you hear a familiar voice: “What happened in here?” You turn to see Concert Headbang Guy — because of course it’s him. [[Explain the situation|take blame]] to CHG and take the blame for the spill. [[Explain the situation|blame]] to CHG and blame the drunken man who dropped the bottle in the first place.

The drunken polo man clearly does not have his wits about him, so you suppose it would have been the best thing to do to take the bottle from him, even if you didn’t intend to drink it. You own up to your self-proclaimed inaction and explain to CHG you didn’t take the bottle when you had the chance, and it dropped to the ground and shattered as a result. You feel a sense pride in assuming responsibility and crack a small smile, to which CHG does not respond warmly. “You smug, conceited brat. I worked all week to buy that bottle, and you shattered it just to ruin my week. If this is about the headbanging thing earlier tonight, you need to learn to move on.” CHG storms out of the room, yelling, “You’d better clean that up before the host sees.” You turn back to the drunken polo man, who stumbles out of the room with a sense of aloofness that you quite envy at this point. (set: $alcohol to 5) [[Continue.|RestroomIntro]]

You’ve grown weary of being the scapegoat of every misfortune this evening, so you decide it’s about time that someone other than you take responsibility. You explain to CHG that the drunken polo man standing beside you is intoxicated and dropped the bottle trying to make you drink it. CHG looks to the drunken polo man, who rather aloofly stumbles out of the room, likely unaware of the situation to begin with. CHG turns back to you. “Then why are you the one cleaning it up? You think you just wouldn’t get caught, right? I worked all week to buy that bottle, and of course you smash it to pieces — that’s just my luck, you know? If this is about the headbanging thing earlier tonight, you need to learn to move on.” CHG storms out of the room, yelling, “You’d better clean that up before the host sees.” You do so in haste. (set: $alcohol to 6) [[Continue.|RestroomIntro]]

It was his incessant prodding that split the vodka, so he needs to clean it up, you reckon. But, knowing your uncanny ability to get pinned as the scapegoat for every misfortune this evening, you decide it’d be in your best interest to leave as soon as possible. You leg toward the door that leads back into the living room but as you approach the threshold, a familiar figure obstructs your way: Concert Headbang guy. At this point, you’re just a foot away from him and you reckon you couldn’t halt your momentum even if you tried. You are forced to make split-second decision: [[Try to slip beside him.|slip]] [[Slam straight into him.|slam]]

You use that split second to find a safe junction through which to pass: It seems there might be just enough space between CHG’s left arm and the right side of the doorway for you to slip by unscathed. You take the dive and briefly clip the left arm but make it out of the kitchen and into the living room with your face and body intact. You don’t look back to see what CHG made of the situation, but about 15 seconds later, you do hear a loud roar from the kitchen. (set: $alcohol to 7) [[Continue.|RestroomIntro]]

You cut your losses and throw yourself right into CHG, who manages not to fall but staggers a few feet back trying to hold himself up. At last you come to a stop, the impact cushioned by a now furious CHG. He stands before you, silent for just a few moments before screaming into your face. “Did you seriously just try to headbang me? Really? Just let it go, dude. Who do you think you are?” You mutter a brief apology before slipping back into the crowd in the living room. You don’t look back to see if CHG is after you, but you do hear a roar from the kitchen about 15 seconds later. (set: $alcohol to 8) [[Continue.|RestroomIntro]]

You put your hand to the knob and try to open the door. The knob jiggles a bit; it feels rather loose. You take a better look and the door and find it to be somewhat ramshackle, the knob is a replacement and the doorway has been repainted at least once. Ultimately, you’re not sure whether the door is locked or simply stuck. [[Knock on the door.|knock]] [[Try to force|force]] the door. It must just be stuck. [[Wait patiently|wait]] for someone to come out of the restroom.

You rap your knuckles against the door and await a response. A few seconds pass, and you come to realize perhaps you can’t hear them due to how loud the hallway is. That, or there isn’t anyone in the restroom at all. At this point, you’re not sure. [[Knock again.|again]] [[Attempt to open|open]] the door. [[Wait patiently|wait]] for someone to come out of the restroom. [[Knock again|ear]] and press your ear to the door.

You decide the door’s refusal to budge must be attribute to its rather decrepit condition, so you take hold of the doorknob, twist it, and simultaneously press yourself against the door with a great energy. The door still not budge, but from the other side, you hear a loud scream. It must be occupied. (set: $restroomscare to 1) [[Leave.|leave]] That was embarrassing, so perhaps it’d be best to not be seen by whoever is inside. [[Wait for the person|prepare]] to exit and prepare yourself mentally for the encounter.

You might look a fool if it turns out no one’s inside, but you take those odds and wait patiently outside the door. Suddenly, you hear your name called from afar. A few moments later, you see Amos accompanied by two strangers. Amos approaches you makes a request. “Casey, these are my friends from out of state. They came to see my show, and I want you to meet them before they’re out the door.” (set: $loose to 1) (set: $brief to 1) [[Introduce yourself|introduce]] and exchange pleasantries. [[Briefly shake hands|brief]] and step back into the hallway to wait on the restroom.

Yikes. You turn around and prepare to make an exit down the hall. Suddenly, you hear your name called from afar. A few moments later, you see Amos accompanied by two strangers. Amos approaches you makes a request. “Casey, these are my friends from out of state. They came to see my show, and I want you to meet them before they’re out the door.” (set: $loose to 3) (set: $brief to 2) [[Introduce yourself|introduce]] and exchange pleasantries. [[Briefly shake hands|brief]] and continue on your way — that is, away from the hallway and into the identity-shielding crowd.

You might look a fool if it turns out no one’s inside, but you take those odds and wait patiently outside the door. Suddenly, you hear your name called from afar. A few moments later, you see Amos accompanied by two strangers. Amos approaches you makes a request. “Casey, these are my friends from out of state. They came to see my show, and I want you to meet them before they’re out the door.” (set: $loose to 3) (set: $brief to 1) [[Introduce yourself|introduce]] and exchange pleasantries. [[Briefly shake hands|brief]] and step back into the hallway to wait on the restroom.

Perhaps, you reckon, you might hear better if you press your ear to the door. You knock once more on the door and thrust your face forward to join ear to wood. Your ear does not meet wood, however. It instead meets nothing at all; the door has been opened, and on the other side of the threshold stands the girl in loose clothing. “I knew you were a fucking creep,” she screams. “Fucking pervert.” She yells other indecencies, but you find it hard to pay attention as your urge to enter the restroom grows stronger. (set: $restroomscare to 1) [[Take the time|time]] to apologize and explain your situation. [[Step past her|step past]] and use the restroom.

You try to bring her to reason, for the second time tonight, and explain you were simply trying to listen for anyone in the restroom — not listening for sounds of feminine biological relief, contrary to her assumption. You don’t quite get the end of your argument, as you hear your name called from afar. A few moments later, you see Amos accompanied by two strangers. Amos approaches you makes a request. “Casey, these are my friends from out of state. They came to see my show, and I want you to meet them before they’re out the door.” (set: $loose to 2) (set: $brief to 3) [[Introduce yourself|introduce]] and exchange pleasantries. [[Briefly shake hands|brief]] and continue your conversation with the girl in loose clothing.

You haven’t the time to be chewed out yet again, and regardless, your biological functions come first. As politely as you can, you step past her mid-sentence and close the restroom door behind you. She screams some unintelligible words — you assume they’re insults like “pervert” and “wanker,” and you’re probably right — as you do what you came to do. [[Continue.|FinaleIntro]]

You knock another time and wait for a response. You heard just about as much as you did last time — that is to say, nothing but the music and the ambient chatter. [[Knock again.|again]] [[Attempt to open|open]] the door. [[Wait patiently|wait]] for someone to come out of the restroom. [[Knock again|ear]] and press your ear to the door.

The rest of the night sees you standing awkwardly in the living room, having made a few enemies and no friends at this dismal social outing. You occupy your time by watching another band set up in the space where Amos’ band played earlier. A woman with long, green hair sets up a smoke machine on top of one of the speakers. A person in a T-shirt and basketball shorts plugs a bunch of wires between instruments, speakers, pedals, and sound boards. You have a hazy idea of how this system of wires functions, but you’re intrigued by it nonetheless. In a moment, you’re caught off guard by the activation of the smoke machine, which sprays some unknown — to you, at least — smoky chemical substance toward your face and eyes in one powerful spurt. [[Close your eyes|close]] and wait for the smoke to pass. [[Keep your eyes open.|open eyes]] After all, smoke from smoke machines shouldn’t be harmful, right?

You shake hands with Amos’ friends, Amir and Elyse, and introduce yourself as Casey, Amos’ roommate. It turns out the two of them were born in Michigan and met Amos at a concert a couple of years back. They happened to be area so stopped by to see Amos’ show, but have to catch a plane in an hour or so. The conversation itself is rewarding; you rattle off a few jokes you’ve been working on, and Elyse makes you laugh more than a few times. Amir talks about music with a passion that you’re frankly jealous of. Finally, they say their goodbyes, and Higgins walks them out of the house. (if: $loose is 1)[You look back toward the restroom to see someone entering and, unfortunately, closing the door behind them.] (if: $loose is 2)[You get a tap on the shoulder, and you turn to see a palm closing in on your face. The girl in loose clothing has slapped you, and now your cheek stings. What’s worse is that the girl in loose clothing is furious with you. “Did you just fucking walk away from me? How dare you. What fucking nerve you have.” She slaps you again on the other cheek and storms off. Now, both your cheeks sting. You look back toward the restroom to see someone entering and, unfortunately, closing the door behind them.] (if: $loose is 3)[You get a tap on the shoulder, and you turn to see the girl in loose clothing from earlier in the night. She looks rather disgruntled, and after a moment you come to understand that she must have been the person in the restroom who shrieked so violently at your trespass attempt. As no surprise to you, she starts to yell. “I knew you were a fucking pervert! Why can’t you just leave me alone!” She shoves you aside and storms off into the living room. You look back toward the restroom to see someone entering and, unfortunately, closing the door behind them.] [[Continue.|FinaleIntro]]

(set: $restroomignore to 1)(if: $brief is 1)[You’d really rather not lose your shot at getting into the restroom, so you briefly shake their hands and ask to be excused. You step away from them and wait for the restroom door to open. Just a minute later, it does, and out steps the girl in loose clothing. She and you lock eyes, and you hear her mutter “pervert” as she walks past you. But none of that matters now — your path to the restroom is now unimpeded. You step inside, close the door behind you, and do what you came to do.] (if: $brief is 2)[You can’t rightly explain to Higgins and his two friends your current pursuit from the restroom screecher, so you briefly shake their hands and ask to be excused. You step into the busy living room crowd and keep a watchful eye on the restroom door from afar. Eventually, the door opens and out steps the girl in loose clothing. You make a beeline for the restroom and, finally, do what you came to do.] (if: $brief is 3)[You’re rather afraid this girl in loose clothing might physically reprimand you for ignoring her, so you briefly shake their hands and ask to be excused. You turn back toward the girl and receive the rest of your chewing-out — but once the onslaught ends and she storms away, you find path to the restroom unimpeded. Finally, you do what you came to do.] [[Continue.|FinaleIntro]]

You close your eyes and wait a few seconds for the smoke machine to settle into its usual state of leaking smoke rather than exerting it, but you open your eyes to find them locked with someone: Linda. She stares back before asking, “Were you just gonna keep your eyes closed until I left or what?” Linda looks down at the ground and lets out a sigh. She asks, “Look, do we need to talk about us?” [[Yes. Quite badly|yes]], as it turns out. "Yes." [[Yes. Quite badly|no]], as it turns outs. "No." [[I didn't watch|idiot]] the short film, o wise narrator. Who's Linda?

“Fine.” “Come on, it’s loud in here. Let’s step outside.” Linda guides you through the living room and out the front door. The two of you take a seat on some plastic fold-out chairs situated on the patio and dive right in. “So, you’re… not in a good place, I take it. I don’t know. How’re you feeling?” [[“Not great|11]], if I’ll be honest.” [["“About as good|12]] as I could feel given the circumstances.” [[“A bit nervous|13]]. See, I have to give a eulogy at my self-worth’s funeral tomorrow, and I’m not very good with words.” [["About what?"|14]] [[“In all seriousness|15]], I feel sorry for you, that’s how I’m feeling. You shouldn’t have to be in this situation.”

You keep your eyes open and let the smoke hit your eyes before the machine settles into its usual state of leaking smoke — rather than spurting it. Your eyes start to water, but it has less to do with the chemicals in the smoke and more to do with your active participation in keeping your eyes open. You clear the water from your eyes to find them locked with someone: Linda. She stares back before muttering under her breath, “Jesus Christ, he’s crying.” Linda looks down at the ground and lets out a sigh. She asks, “Look, do we need to talk about us?” [[Yes. Quite badly|yes]], as it turns out. "Yes." [[Yes. Quite badly|no]], as it turns outs. "No." [[I didn't watch|idiot]] the short film, o wise narrator. Who's Linda?

“Casey, you’re full of crap.” “Come on, it’s loud in here. Let’s step outside.” Linda guides you through the living room and out the front door. The two of you take a seat on some plastic fold-out chairs situated on the patio and dive right in. “So, you’re… not in a good place, I take it. I don’t know. How’re you feeling?” [[“Not great|11]], if I’ll be honest.” [["“About as good|12]] as I could feel given the circumstances.” [[“A bit nervous|13]]. See, I have to give a eulogy at my self-worth’s funeral tomorrow, and I’m not very good with words.” [["About what?"|14]] [[“In all seriousness|15]], I feel sorry for you, that’s how I’m feeling. You shouldn’t have to be in this situation.”

Linda is a close friend of yours who you recently tried to ask on a date over lunch and failed spectacularly. For the painstakingly painful details, just watch the film. I promise it’s not that bad. [[Ugh, OK.|FinaleIntro]] Alright, let's try this sequence again.

“I thought as much. I can’t blame you, I guess, you feel how you feel. I’m sorry it had to be this way. I understand the irony of what I’m going to say, but I wish there was something I could do about it. You know what I mean.” [[“No, I get that|11a]]. How you feel is out of your power, obviously, so I appreciate you understanding my perspective. I think we’re both on the same page in that regard, which is good.” [[“If I had the opportunity|11b]] to feel a different way, I’d take it in a heartbeat, that’s for certain. I’m not sure whether this feeling is something I need to ride out for the time being or get rid of as soon as possible.” [[“Don’t be sorry|11c]], please. You feeling bad about something you don’t have power over is just going to make me feel worse, if you want to think of it like that.” [[“The irony is lost on me|11d]], frankly. I think some good would have come out of you saying yes. That’s just my two cents, but I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t think good could come of it.”

“Yeah, being on the same page is good. Hopefully, that means we’ll both get something out of talking here tonight.” “So, I guess I wanted to talk about, you know, how lunch actually went, or whatever. Like, how we interacted and what we said and how we treated each other. And, like, I was pretty floored when you asked me, so I don’t know if I could have reacted any better or not. How would you have wanted me to respond differently?” [[“I think you|21]] did the best you could.” [[“I think there|22]] was a little more room for politeness, but I get that it must’ve been hard to read the situation.” [[“I would have appreciated|23]] a more concrete reason for saying no. In all honesty, I think I’d still appreciate one.” [[“You could have given|24]] me a chance or something. You know, like a test run, I guess.” [[“You could have|25]] leapt into my arms then and there.”

“I get that. I think those are two extremes, though, but I guess that doesn’t make them any less valid. We can talk about it.” “So, I guess I wanted to talk about, you know, how lunch actually went, or whatever. Like, how we interacted and what we said and how we treated each other. And, like, I was pretty floored when you asked me, so I don’t know if I could have reacted any better or not. How would you have wanted me to respond differently?” [[“I think you|21]] did the best you could.” [[“I think there|22]] was a little more room for politeness, but I get that it must’ve been hard to read the situation.” [[“I would have appreciated|23]] a more concrete reason for saying no. In all honesty, I think I’d still appreciate one.” [[“You could have given|24]] me a chance or something. You know, like a test run, I guess.” [[“You could have|25]] leapt into my arms then and there.”

“Well, I guess I meant sorry in a more polite sense than a guilty sense, you know? Guilt and regret and all that is gonna get in the way of us making progress tonight, right?” “So, I guess I wanted to talk about, you know, how lunch actually went, or whatever. Like, how we interacted and what we said and how we treated each other. And, like, I was pretty floored when you asked me, so I don’t know if I could have reacted any better or not. How would you have wanted me to respond differently?” [[“I think you|21]] did the best you could.” [[“I think there|22]] was a little more room for politeness, but I get that it must’ve been hard to read the situation.” [[“I would have appreciated|23]] a more concrete reason for saying no. In all honesty, I think I’d still appreciate one.” [[“You could have given|24]] me a chance or something. You know, like a test run, I guess.” [[“You could have|25]] leapt into my arms then and there.”

“That’s a good point, but hopefully us talking will give you some insight into how I think about the whole thing, and why it might not have been so good, you know?” “So, I guess I wanted to talk about, you know, how lunch actually went, or whatever. Like, how we interacted and what we said and how we treated each other. And, like, I was pretty floored when you asked me, so I don’t know if I could have reacted any better or not. How would you have wanted me to respond differently?” [[“I think you|21]] did the best you could.” [[“I think there|22]] was a little more room for politeness, but I get that it must’ve been hard to read the situation.” [[“I would have appreciated|23]] a more concrete reason for saying no. In all honesty, I think I’d still appreciate one.” [[“You could have given|24]] me a chance or something. You know, like a test run, I guess.” [[“You could have|25]] leapt into my arms then and there.”

“Well, I’m sorry the circumstances aren’t what you had in mind. I hope you’re not beating yourself up over the whole thing; you really shouldn’t be.” [[“I mean|12a]], I’m definitely beating myself up about it, but that’s just the first step to personal growth, right? If anything’s going to motivate me to be a better person, it’s this.” [[“No, no, of course not|12b]]. It’s not in your power; it’s not in my power. I’m a victim of cosmic circumstance, and I’m aware of it. It’s just difficult to find a sort of closure when the root of the problem doesn’t really exist.” [[“I can’t really help|12c]] that bit of self-doubt that comes with something like this, you know? Like, I find it difficult not to take it as a judgement of character, but I can’t seem to find a lens that lets me interpret it otherwise.” [[Well, now|12d]] you’ve put me at an impasse. You want to know how I feel, but if I’m honest about it, I fear it’ll only make you feel worse. Of course, I’m beating myself up about it, but I don’t want the knowledge of that to make you uncomfortable. It’s just a thing I’m going to do.

“I guess you could call that a positive spin or something. But hopefully we can talk about healthier ways to move forward tonight, you know?” “So, I guess I wanted to talk about, you know, how lunch actually went, or whatever. Like, how we interacted and what we said and how we treated each other. And, like, I was pretty floored when you asked me, so I don’t know if I could have reacted any better or not. How would you have wanted me to respond differently?” [[“I think you|21]] did the best you could.” [[“I think there|22]] was a little more room for politeness, but I get that it must’ve been hard to read the situation.” [[“I would have appreciated|23]] a more concrete reason for saying no. In all honesty, I think I’d still appreciate one.” [[“You could have given|24]] me a chance or something. You know, like a test run, I guess.” [[“You could have|25]] leapt into my arms then and there.”

“I feel like ‘cosmic circumstance’ is a bit dramatic to describe today, but I get your need for closure or an answer or whatever. Hopefully we can clear some of that up tonight.” “So, I guess I wanted to talk about, you know, how lunch actually went, or whatever. Like, how we interacted and what we said and how we treated each other. And, like, I was pretty floored when you asked me, so I don’t know if I could have reacted any better or not. How would you have wanted me to respond differently?” [[“I think you|21]] did the best you could.” [[“I think there|22]] was a little more room for politeness, but I get that it must’ve been hard to read the situation.” [[“I would have appreciated|23]] a more concrete reason for saying no. In all honesty, I think I’d still appreciate one.” [[“You could have given|24]] me a chance or something. You know, like a test run, I guess.” [[“You could have|25]] leapt into my arms then and there.”

“Well, hopefully by the end of this I can convince you that it’s not a judgment of character, and that lens that lets you interpret things differently or whatever is totally something you can develop.” “So, I guess I wanted to talk about, you know, how lunch actually went, or whatever. Like, how we interacted and what we said and how we treated each other. And, like, I was pretty floored when you asked me, so I don’t know if I could have reacted any better or not. How would you have wanted me to respond differently?” [[“I think you|21]] did the best you could.” [[“I think there|22]] was a little more room for politeness, but I get that it must’ve been hard to read the situation.” [[“I would have appreciated|23]] a more concrete reason for saying no. In all honesty, I think I’d still appreciate one.” [[“You could have given|24]] me a chance or something. You know, like a test run, I guess.” [[“You could have|25]] leapt into my arms then and there.”

“Well even though I appreciate that you’re putting me first, I think you’re starting to neglect what’s best for you and your own feelings. So let’s talk about that tonight, you know?” “So, I guess I wanted to talk about, you know, how lunch actually went, or whatever. Like, how we interacted and what we said and how we treated each other. And, like, I was pretty floored when you asked me, so I don’t know if I could have reacted any better or not. How would you have wanted me to respond differently?” [[“I think you|21]] did the best you could.” [[“I think there|22]] was a little more room for politeness, but I get that it must’ve been hard to read the situation.” [[“I would have appreciated|23]] a more concrete reason for saying no. In all honesty, I think I’d still appreciate one.” [[“You could have given|24]] me a chance or something. You know, like a test run, I guess.” [[“You could have|25]] leapt into my arms then and there.”

“Alright, Casey, I get it. I appreciate the sense of humor about it all, but if you’re hurt, I need you to open up and let me know. I want to help." [[“I mean, I did|13a]] open up, didn’t I? The joke was about my self-worth not being in tip-top shape, if you know what I mean. I promise I’m being open with you, it just makes me more comfortable if I layer it in something like a joke. That way, if worse comes to worst, at least one of use gets a laugh out of it.” [[“I’m afraid|13b]] the sense of humor can’t be wiped away that easily. I appreciate you wanting to hear all the nitty-gritty of my current emotional arc, but there’s no way I can say how I honestly feel without making you wildly uncomfortable. If I can help it, why wouldn’t I want you to smile?” [[“Well, if you want|13c]] to get technical, I think the joke gets you closer to the truth than any conversation I could have with you. Like, in the joke, I told you I had no self-worth. And, in telling the joke, I conveyed to you that I’m also trying to keep my spirits up about it. Sometimes, jokes are efficient like that. They’re art, after all.” [[“OK, I’m sorry|13d]], I’ll drop the jokes. They just keep my gears turning, you know? The way I see it, I’d rather be laughing than not laughing at any given point in time. If I’m being honest and open with you, I may as well be getting a kick out of it at the same time. I mean no disrespect; it’s just good for me is all.

“Umm, I guess you’ve got me there. But keep in mind, I’m the one who’s letting you talk to me about this, so we’re gonna play by my rules. No hard feelings.” “So, I guess I wanted to talk about, you know, how lunch actually went, or whatever. Like, how we interacted and what we said and how we treated each other. And, like, I was pretty floored when you asked me, so I don’t know if I could have reacted any better or not. How would you have wanted me to respond differently?” [[“I think you|21]] did the best you could.” [[“I think there|22]] was a little more room for politeness, but I get that it must’ve been hard to read the situation.” [[“I would have appreciated|23]] a more concrete reason for saying no. In all honesty, I think I’d still appreciate one.” [[“You could have given|24]] me a chance or something. You know, like a test run, I guess.” [[“You could have|25]] leapt into my arms then and there.”

“I think there’s a time and place to smile, and a time and place to be wildly uncomfortable. You have to be OK with both, Casey. If we’re gonna sit down and have this talk, then you can’t just pick one.” “So, I guess I wanted to talk about, you know, how lunch actually went, or whatever. Like, how we interacted and what we said and how we treated each other. And, like, I was pretty floored when you asked me, so I don’t know if I could have reacted any better or not. How would you have wanted me to respond differently?” [[“I think you|21]] did the best you could.” [[“I think there|22]] was a little more room for politeness, but I get that it must’ve been hard to read the situation.” [[“I would have appreciated|23]] a more concrete reason for saying no. In all honesty, I think I’d still appreciate one.” [[“You could have given|24]] me a chance or something. You know, like a test run, I guess.” [[“You could have|25]] leapt into my arms then and there.”

“Well, I feel like the momentum of this conversation is going to slow to a crawl if I have to parse through each of your jokes, you know? I’d like it if we talked plainly, because I imagine you might have a lot to say.” “So, I guess I wanted to talk about, you know, how lunch actually went, or whatever. Like, how we interacted and what we said and how we treated each other. And, like, I was pretty floored when you asked me, so I don’t know if I could have reacted any better or not. How would you have wanted me to respond differently?” [[“I think you|21]] did the best you could.” [[“I think there|22]] was a little more room for politeness, but I get that it must’ve been hard to read the situation.” [[“I would have appreciated|23]] a more concrete reason for saying no. In all honesty, I think I’d still appreciate one.” [[“You could have given|24]] me a chance or something. You know, like a test run, I guess.” [[“You could have|25]] leapt into my arms then and there.”

“And no disrespect received. Something tells me this conversation will keep you on your toes as is.” “So, I guess I wanted to talk about, you know, how lunch actually went, or whatever. Like, how we interacted and what we said and how we treated each other. And, like, I was pretty floored when you asked me, so I don’t know if I could have reacted any better or not. How would you have wanted me to respond differently?” [[“I think you|21]] did the best you could.” [[“I think there|22]] was a little more room for politeness, but I get that it must’ve been hard to read the situation.” [[“I would have appreciated|23]] a more concrete reason for saying no. In all honesty, I think I’d still appreciate one.” [[“You could have given|24]] me a chance or something. You know, like a test run, I guess.” [[“You could have|25]] leapt into my arms then and there.”

“Casey, please don’t do this. As a friend, I want you to be open to me about your feelings. You might not want to talk about it, but I think it’d be best for the both of us if you did.” [[“You’re right|14a]], it’s not something I want to talk about. I know you don’t want to make me uncomfortable, but in all honestly this situation is putting me in a very weird place. Obviously, I have a lot of feelings about this, but I don’t know if it’s the best idea to talk about it when I haven’t really had the time to think and digest it all.” [[“I want to talk about it|14b]], but now just doesn’t feel like the best time. I’m terrified I’ll say something I didn’t mean to say, you know? I have a lot of things running through my head, and I’m afraid that some unfiltered, inconsiderate thought is going to come out and make things worse.” [[“If you think|14c]] it’d be best for you, I’ll do it. But, I need you to know going in that I can’t speak to everything. I don’t doubt that you’ll respect my limits, but I just want to make clear that any wall I put up is up for a legitimate reason. I don’t want to just shut you out, honest.” [[“I think this’d be good|14d]] for me, too, but you have to understand that I can’t really pretend like there are no stakes to this conversation, you know? I don’t want to be on the nose about it, but there’s no getting rid of this pressure to get my words right. I’d really rather not dig myself a deeper hole, but if you think it’ll go otherwise, then I’ll take your word for it.”

“Well, you can sit and think about it right here, right now, with me. If we both need to work through this, then we may as well be working together, you know?” “So, I guess I wanted to talk about, you know, how lunch actually went, or whatever. Like, how we interacted and what we said and how we treated each other. And, like, I was pretty floored when you asked me, so I don’t know if I could have reacted any better or not. How would you have wanted me to respond differently?” [[“I think you|21]] did the best you could.” [[“I think there|22]] was a little more room for politeness, but I get that it must’ve been hard to read the situation.” [[“I would have appreciated|23]] a more concrete reason for saying no. In all honesty, I think I’d still appreciate one.” [[“You could have given|24]] me a chance or something. You know, like a test run, I guess.” [[“You could have|25]] leapt into my arms then and there.”

“Casey, I promise I have the patience to wait for a response and the awareness to know if you said something out of line. If we’re going to talk about this, you need to trust that I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt, you know?” “So, I guess I wanted to talk about, you know, how lunch actually went, or whatever. Like, how we interacted and what we said and how we treated each other. And, like, I was pretty floored when you asked me, so I don’t know if I could have reacted any better or not. How would you have wanted me to respond differently?” [[“I think you|21]] did the best you could.” [[“I think there|22]] was a little more room for politeness, but I get that it must’ve been hard to read the situation.” [[“I would have appreciated|23]] a more concrete reason for saying no. In all honesty, I think I’d still appreciate one.” [[“You could have given|24]] me a chance or something. You know, like a test run, I guess.” [[“You could have|25]] leapt into my arms then and there.”

“That’s fine, Casey, I trust you to make the right decision if we talk about anything extra dicey. The important thing is that we keep moving forward.” “So, I guess I wanted to talk about, you know, how lunch actually went, or whatever. Like, how we interacted and what we said and how we treated each other. And, like, I was pretty floored when you asked me, so I don’t know if I could have reacted any better or not. How would you have wanted me to respond differently?” [[“I think you|21]] did the best you could.” [[“I think there|22]] was a little more room for politeness, but I get that it must’ve been hard to read the situation.” [[“I would have appreciated|23]] a more concrete reason for saying no. In all honesty, I think I’d still appreciate one.” [[“You could have given|24]] me a chance or something. You know, like a test run, I guess.” [[“You could have|25]] leapt into my arms then and there.”

“It will go otherwise, Casey. After all, there’s not much deeper to dig — I’m kidding, of course. You have to trust that I’m not going to think less of you for having any particular feelings, you know?” “So, I guess I wanted to talk about, you know, how lunch actually went, or whatever. Like, how we interacted and what we said and how we treated each other. And, like, I was pretty floored when you asked me, so I don’t know if I could have reacted any better or not. How would you have wanted me to respond differently?” [[“I think you|21]] did the best you could.” [[“I think there|22]] was a little more room for politeness, but I get that it must’ve been hard to read the situation.” [[“I would have appreciated|23]] a more concrete reason for saying no. In all honesty, I think I’d still appreciate one.” [[“You could have given|24]] me a chance or something. You know, like a test run, I guess.” [[“You could have|25]] leapt into my arms then and there.”

“I appreciate that you’re thinking of me, but I get the impression that you’re feeling much more vulnerable than I am right now. If anything, I should feel bad for making you talk to me face-to-face, but I believe this is good for you. Honestly.” [[“Fine, I’ll call|15a]] us even. I made you feel vulnerable today at lunch, and you make me feel vulnerable right now. There, it’s an even playing field. I don’t believe that, but I’ll call it even if we can stop throwing a pity party for each other.” [[“I think ‘vulnerable’|15b]] is a weird word for it, but I guess it’s a good one. Like, I’d only feel weird about this situation because you feel weird about the situation, if that makes sense. I guess they call that empathy or whatever, but that’s really how I feel about it.” [[“No, no, you can’t|15c]] think of it like that. I’m the aggressor in this whole thing. You can’t feel bad for taking initiative to remedy a problem that I created, you know? I’m grateful you’re thinking of me, too, but I need you to rid yourself of any sense of guilt or whatever in this situation.” [[“Yes, yes I am|15d]]. But, I mean, that’s just retribution. I had this coming, I guess, so I’ll take it without complaint. You’ll just have to forgive the shaking and stuttering is all.”

“Whatever it takes to get you talking and in a better place, Casey. I’m serious, I want this to be a positive experience for the both of us, so I think it’d be in your best interest to play along.” “So, I guess I wanted to talk about, you know, how lunch actually went, or whatever. Like, how we interacted and what we said and how we treated each other. And, like, I was pretty floored when you asked me, so I don’t know if I could have reacted any better or not. How would you have wanted me to respond differently?” [[“I think you|21]] did the best you could.” [[“I think there|22]] was a little more room for politeness, but I get that it must’ve been hard to read the situation.” [[“I would have appreciated|23]] a more concrete reason for saying no. In all honesty, I think I’d still appreciate one.” [[“You could have given|24]] me a chance or something. You know, like a test run, I guess.” [[“You could have|25]] leapt into my arms then and there.”

“Well, I don’t feel weird about it, so I guess you don’t feel weird about it. How’s that? Does that sound good? Cool.” “So, I guess I wanted to talk about, you know, how lunch actually went, or whatever. Like, how we interacted and what we said and how we treated each other. And, like, I was pretty floored when you asked me, so I don’t know if I could have reacted any better or not. How would you have wanted me to respond differently?” [[“I think you|21]] did the best you could.” [[“I think there|22]] was a little more room for politeness, but I get that it must’ve been hard to read the situation.” [[“I would have appreciated|23]] a more concrete reason for saying no. In all honesty, I think I’d still appreciate one.” [[“You could have given|24]] me a chance or something. You know, like a test run, I guess.” [[“You could have|25]] leapt into my arms then and there.”

“Remember, Casey, I said I should feel bad, not that I do feel bad. Don’t worry about how I’m feeling, this is about getting you and us on the right track.” “So, I guess I wanted to talk about, you know, how lunch actually went, or whatever. Like, how we interacted and what we said and how we treated each other. And, like, I was pretty floored when you asked me, so I don’t know if I could have reacted any better or not. How would you have wanted me to respond differently?” [[“I think you|21]] did the best you could.” [[“I think there|22]] was a little more room for politeness, but I get that it must’ve been hard to read the situation.” [[“I would have appreciated|23]] a more concrete reason for saying no. In all honesty, I think I’d still appreciate one.” [[“You could have given|24]] me a chance or something. You know, like a test run, I guess.” [[“You could have|25]] leapt into my arms then and there.”

“I’m used to the shaking and stuttering, Casey. That’s totally fine. The important part is getting you talking and moving you in a positive direction.” “So, I guess I wanted to talk about, you know, how lunch actually went, or whatever. Like, how we interacted and what we said and how we treated each other. And, like, I was pretty floored when you asked me, so I don’t know if I could have reacted any better or not. How would you have wanted me to respond differently?” [[“I think you|21]] did the best you could.” [[“I think there|22]] was a little more room for politeness, but I get that it must’ve been hard to read the situation.” [[“I would have appreciated|23]] a more concrete reason for saying no. In all honesty, I think I’d still appreciate one.” [[“You could have given|24]] me a chance or something. You know, like a test run, I guess.” [[“You could have|25]] leapt into my arms then and there.”

“Maybe, yeah, in the moment, you’re right. But I guess hindsight is 20/20, and thinking about it all day has led me down all kinds of roads. I definitely wish I was a bit more, I guess, tactful, but that’s why we’re talking now: to clear the air and make sure we didn’t miss anything important we needed to say.” "By the way, you’re not taking this whole thing personally, are you?" [[“No, of course not|31]]. Your feelings are your feelings, it’s got nothing to do with me.” [[“I don’t mean|32]] to be selfish about it, because I know you’re the one making the decision, but there is that creeping feeling that I could have handled it better and turned the tide of it all.” [[“Wouldn’t you?”|33]] [[“I’m trying not to|34]], but it just feels logical that a better, more interesting version of myself would’ve had a better chance, you know?” [[“Of course, I am|35]]. To do otherwise would be missing the whole point of this learning experience, I reckon.”

“You’re not wrong, I guess I wasn’t really watching my words so carefully. I wanted to be gentle, but at the same time, my adrenaline was pumping too, so I’d understand if I came in hot or anything like that. I know you’re not supposed to do these kinds of things over text or in writing, but now that I think about it, it doesn’t sound like such a bad idea.” "By the way, you’re not taking this whole thing personally, are you?" [[“No, of course not|31]]. Your feelings are your feelings, it’s got nothing to do with me.” [[“I don’t mean|32]] to be selfish about it, because I know you’re the one making the decision, but there is that creeping feeling that I could have handled it better and turned the tide of it all.” [[“Wouldn’t you?”|33]] [[“I’m trying not to|34]], but it just feels logical that a better, more interesting version of myself would’ve had a better chance, you know?” [[“Of course, I am|35]]. To do otherwise would be missing the whole point of this learning experience, I reckon.”

“Yeah, I was expecting that. I mean, that’s really hard for me to pin down, you know? It’s not like I have a checklist of things I’m looking for, you know? It just didn’t feel right to me. And, even now that I’ve had time to think about it, I really prefer our friendship as it is. I don’t know, the whole thing just kind of came out of left field is all.” "By the way, you’re not taking this whole thing personally, are you?" [[“No, of course not|31]]. Your feelings are your feelings, it’s got nothing to do with me.” [[“I don’t mean|32]] to be selfish about it, because I know you’re the one making the decision, but there is that creeping feeling that I could have handled it better and turned the tide of it all.” [[“Wouldn’t you?”|33]] [[“I’m trying not to|34]], but it just feels logical that a better, more interesting version of myself would’ve had a better chance, you know?” [[“Of course, I am|35]]. To do otherwise would be missing the whole point of this learning experience, I reckon.”

“Well, I like to think our lunches were those test runs, you know? It’s not like you’re a different person when you’re in a relationship or anything; there’s no reason to treat each other differently in most situations, I feel. And, like, saying maybe and letting you try the date thing would just feel disingenuous to me. I’d feel like I’m leading you on or something, you know?” "By the way, you’re not taking this whole thing personally, are you?" [[“No, of course not|31]]. Your feelings are your feelings, it’s got nothing to do with me.” [[“I don’t mean|32]] to be selfish about it, because I know you’re the one making the decision, but there is that creeping feeling that I could have handled it better and turned the tide of it all.” [[“Wouldn’t you?”|33]] [[“I’m trying not to|34]], but it just feels logical that a better, more interesting version of myself would’ve had a better chance, you know?” [[“Of course, I am|35]]. To do otherwise would be missing the whole point of this learning experience, I reckon.”

“That is definitely something I could have done, yes. That is some excellent constructive criticism you’ve provided, thank you. But, in all seriousness, I hope I’ve never done anything to lead you on or make you think I was interested in you in that kind of way. Like, I guess I did — otherwise you wouldn’t have asked — but I hope it was never anything explicit. I like to think I’d be aware of things like that, but I guess I’m not.” "By the way, you’re not taking this whole thing personally, are you?" [[“No, of course not|31]]. Your feelings are your feelings, it’s got nothing to do with me.” [[“I don’t mean|32]] to be selfish about it, because I know you’re the one making the decision, but there is that creeping feeling that I could have handled it better and turned the tide of it all.” [[“Wouldn’t you?”|33]] [[“I’m trying not to|34]], but it just feels logical that a better, more interesting version of myself would’ve had a better chance, you know?” [[“Of course, I am|35]]. To do otherwise would be missing the whole point of this learning experience, I reckon.”

“That’s a way to put it, yeah. I really do hope you feel that way, because I honestly don’t have a say in how I feel. My feelings are my feelings, I guess, yeah. Ironically, I don’t feel good since you don’t feel good, so I’m not sure how to reconcile that, but even with all this in mind I still feel the same way.” "Oh, wait, OK, this is important: Are we still getting lunch next week?" [[“Definitely|41]]. Why wouldn’t we?” [["I get your apprehension|42]], but if you’re up for it, then I’m more than willing.” [[“I don’t know|43]]. Should we?” [[“I guess maybe not next week|44]]. We’ll give it a bit of time, since that’s supposed to help or whatever.” [[“I don’t think|45]] it’d be good for me, no.”

“I don’t know if that’s true. Well, I mean, you definitely could have handled it better, but I don’t think that would’ve changed the outcome, in all honesty. I hope you get that even if you were to have openly insulted me at lunch today, my perception of you comes from more than a year of friendship, not a half hour of lunch.” "Oh, wait, OK, this is important: Are we still getting lunch next week?" [[“Definitely|41]]. Why wouldn’t we?” [["I get your apprehension|42]], but if you’re up for it, then I’m more than willing.” [[“I don’t know|43]]. Should we?” [[“I guess maybe not next week|44]]. We’ll give it a bit of time, since that’s supposed to help or whatever.” [[“I don’t think|45]] it’d be good for me, no.”

“No. No, I wouldn’t. I’d try my best to understand that for some people, relationships aren’t a priority. It might be hard to see things through that lens if you’ve never felt that way, but people find validation, support, and intimacy in all kinds of other ways. There’s a time and place for something like a relationship, and not everyone thinks the time is now and always.” "Oh, wait, OK, this is important: Are we still getting lunch next week?" [[“Definitely|41]]. Why wouldn’t we?” [["I get your apprehension|42]], but if you’re up for it, then I’m more than willing.” [[“I don’t know|43]]. Should we?” [[“I guess maybe not next week|44]]. We’ll give it a bit of time, since that’s supposed to help or whatever.” [[“I don’t think|45]] it’d be good for me, no.”

“But who is that better, more interesting version of you? I mean, that just wouldn’t be you, right? I don’t know, I get that self-improvement is important, but I think you’re abstracting this “better Casey” person far beyond reason. Anyone who sees you should get an idea of what the best parts of you are like, you know? It doesn’t all have to be there 24/7 or whatever.” "Oh, wait, OK, this is important: Are we still getting lunch next week?" [[“Definitely|41]]. Why wouldn’t we?” [["I get your apprehension|42]], but if you’re up for it, then I’m more than willing.” [[“I don’t know|43]]. Should we?” [[“I guess maybe not next week|44]]. We’ll give it a bit of time, since that’s supposed to help or whatever.” [[“I don’t think|45]] it’d be good for me, no.”

“If you think you’ve found a means by which you can grow from today, then I’m glad for you. But don’t think I said what I said because of any given flaw in your character. It’s not that you executed anything poorly or you need to improve XYZ to be more successful; there’s just other things I’m thinking about when I make a decision like that.” "Oh, wait, OK, this is important: Are we still getting lunch next week?" [[“Definitely|41]]. Why wouldn’t we?” [["I get your apprehension|42]], but if you’re up for it, then I’m more than willing.” [[“I don’t know|43]]. Should we?” [[“I guess maybe not next week|44]]. We’ll give it a bit of time, since that’s supposed to help or whatever.” [[“I don’t think|45]] it’d be good for me, no.”

“I mean, if you’re that eager, then that’s great. We’ll definitely stick to our lunch plan if that’s the case. I think you’ve got the right attitude in saying that, but I hope it’s not misguided. I’m not really sure what I mean by that, and I’m not trying to imply anything, but I just kinda feel the need to say that.” "Is there anything I can do to help you now, moving forward?" [[“I think I need|51]] some distance. If you could just wait for me to reach out to you whenever I feel up to it, I think that’d be best. I can’t imagine I’d need a long time or anything, but just having the opportunity to take that time would be reassuring. I know that puts you in a weird kind of stasis, but I guess you have other friends and all that, anyway.” [[“I think we should just move on|52]] from each other. I mean, the longer I ruminate on it, and the longer I think of us as even a faint possibility, it’s going to weigh on me for all that time. At least that way, I wouldn’t have any reason to pine. That sounds kind of harsh, and I guess it’s really the extreme, but in this moment right now, that’s what I want.” [[“No, I think you’ve done|53]] the most you can do. Taking the time to talk to me now already means a lot, and it’s given me at least a little bit of insight. Asking anything more of you would be rude, the way I see it. You’ve gone above and beyond, and I’m frankly incredulous that you’re so willing, even at this point.” [[“Maybe we should|54]] make a point to see each other more often. I think the more we try to make the friendship feel normal, the more quickly I’ll get comfortable. Like, it’ll probably be rough to start, and I really don’t want to put you in situations like that, but I think there’s still a lot we can learn from each other. I’d hate to lose that.” [[“Date me.”|55]]

“I’m definitely up for it if you are, Casey. I can’t imagine it’ll go super well or anything, but it’ll be a good start. If asking whether we should postpone threw you off, then I apologize. I’m just trying to take precautions, you know. I don’t mean to steer you in a particular direction or anything, I definitely think lunch is a good idea, for sure.” "Is there anything I can do to help you now, moving forward?" [[“I think I need|51]] some distance. If you could just wait for me to reach out to you whenever I feel up to it, I think that’d be best. I can’t imagine I’d need a long time or anything, but just having the opportunity to take that time would be reassuring. I know that puts you in a weird kind of stasis, but I guess you have other friends and all that, anyway.” [[“I think we should just move on|52]] from each other. I mean, the longer I ruminate on it, and the longer I think of us as even a faint possibility, it’s going to weigh on me for all that time. At least that way, I wouldn’t have any reason to pine. That sounds kind of harsh, and I guess it’s really the extreme, but in this moment right now, that’s what I want.” [[“No, I think you’ve done|53]] the most you can do. Taking the time to talk to me now already means a lot, and it’s given me at least a little bit of insight. Asking anything more of you would be rude, the way I see it. You’ve gone above and beyond, and I’m frankly incredulous that you’re so willing, even at this point.” [[“Maybe we should|54]] make a point to see each other more often. I think the more we try to make the friendship feel normal, the more quickly I’ll get comfortable. Like, it’ll probably be rough to start, and I really don’t want to put you in situations like that, but I think there’s still a lot we can learn from each other. I’d hate to lose that.” [[“Date me.”|55]]

“I mean, I don’t want to make these kinds decisions for you. I don’t want to say anything, because I’m afraid you’ll just default to agree with me, and that might not be what’s best for you. If you’re vulnerable, I don’t want to accidentally manipulate you or anything like that, you know?” "Is there anything I can do to help you now, moving forward?" [[“I think I need|51]] some distance. If you could just wait for me to reach out to you whenever I feel up to it, I think that’d be best. I can’t imagine I’d need a long time or anything, but just having the opportunity to take that time would be reassuring. I know that puts you in a weird kind of stasis, but I guess you have other friends and all that, anyway.” [[“I think we should just move on|52]] from each other. I mean, the longer I ruminate on it, and the longer I think of us as even a faint possibility, it’s going to weigh on me for all that time. At least that way, I wouldn’t have any reason to pine. That sounds kind of harsh, and I guess it’s really the extreme, but in this moment right now, that’s what I want.” [[“No, I think you’ve done|53]] the most you can do. Taking the time to talk to me now already means a lot, and it’s given me at least a little bit of insight. Asking anything more of you would be rude, the way I see it. You’ve gone above and beyond, and I’m frankly incredulous that you’re so willing, even at this point.” [[“Maybe we should|54]] make a point to see each other more often. I think the more we try to make the friendship feel normal, the more quickly I’ll get comfortable. Like, it’ll probably be rough to start, and I really don’t want to put you in situations like that, but I think there’s still a lot we can learn from each other. I’d hate to lose that.” [[“Date me.”|55]]

“It is supposed to help or whatever. I like to think you know what’s best for yourself, but I suppose you’re figuring all this out as you go, anyway. Giving it a week sounds like the right call, but I don’t want our friendship to wane as a result unless we make that decision together. I hope we can hold each other accountable to things like that; I imagine we can.” "Is there anything I can do to help you now, moving forward?" [[“I think I need|51]] some distance. If you could just wait for me to reach out to you whenever I feel up to it, I think that’d be best. I can’t imagine I’d need a long time or anything, but just having the opportunity to take that time would be reassuring. I know that puts you in a weird kind of stasis, but I guess you have other friends and all that, anyway.” [[“I think we should just move on|52]] from each other. I mean, the longer I ruminate on it, and the longer I think of us as even a faint possibility, it’s going to weigh on me for all that time. At least that way, I wouldn’t have any reason to pine. That sounds kind of harsh, and I guess it’s really the extreme, but in this moment right now, that’s what I want.” [[“No, I think you’ve done|53]] the most you can do. Taking the time to talk to me now already means a lot, and it’s given me at least a little bit of insight. Asking anything more of you would be rude, the way I see it. You’ve gone above and beyond, and I’m frankly incredulous that you’re so willing, even at this point.” [[“Maybe we should|54]] make a point to see each other more often. I think the more we try to make the friendship feel normal, the more quickly I’ll get comfortable. Like, it’ll probably be rough to start, and I really don’t want to put you in situations like that, but I think there’s still a lot we can learn from each other. I’d hate to lose that.” [[“Date me.”|55]]

“OK, I get that. I suppose meeting for lunch would hit a little too close to home given the circumstances. That makes sense, yeah. Yeah. Umm, I guess if there’s anything I can do to help, sort of, wipe today from your mind, I’d like to do that. Like, if you don’t want to go to that park, or eat sandwiches with me ever again, I get that. That sounds kinda dumb, but I hope you get what I mean.” "Is there anything I can do to help you now, moving forward?" [[“I think I need|51]] some distance. If you could just wait for me to reach out to you whenever I feel up to it, I think that’d be best. I can’t imagine I’d need a long time or anything, but just having the opportunity to take that time would be reassuring. I know that puts you in a weird kind of stasis, but I guess you have other friends and all that, anyway.” [[“I think we should just move on|52]] from each other. I mean, the longer I ruminate on it, and the longer I think of us as even a faint possibility, it’s going to weigh on me for all that time. At least that way, I wouldn’t have any reason to pine. That sounds kind of harsh, and I guess it’s really the extreme, but in this moment right now, that’s what I want.” [[“No, I think you’ve done|53]] the most you can do. Taking the time to talk to me now already means a lot, and it’s given me at least a little bit of insight. Asking anything more of you would be rude, the way I see it. You’ve gone above and beyond, and I’m frankly incredulous that you’re so willing, even at this point.” [[“Maybe we should|54]] make a point to see each other more often. I think the more we try to make the friendship feel normal, the more quickly I’ll get comfortable. Like, it’ll probably be rough to start, and I really don’t want to put you in situations like that, but I think there’s still a lot we can learn from each other. I’d hate to lose that.” [[“Date me.”|55]]

“Casey, take all the time you need. I’ll miss you for that time, but I’ll get by just fine. I’ve got plenty of work to do and plenty of friends to lean on, and hopefully so do you. That’s why I think this’d be good for you.” “And finally, I guess, umm, is there anything you wanted to ask me?” [[“What’s the line|61]] between a friend and a romantic partner for you?” [[“Was there anything|62]] I could have done or can do to change your mind?” [[“Could I have ever|63]] known the answer without asking, without taking that risk?” [[“Are we keeping|64]] this whole thing just between us?”

“Uh, I guess you’re right. That’s pretty extreme. I want to argue that with every bone in my body, but I don’t think this is my time to tell you no. I’m sorry you can’t get the thought of us out of your head, and I guess that means even this conversation probably sucks for you, but if that’s what it takes, then I’m willing to step away.” “And finally, I guess, umm, is there anything you wanted to ask me?” [[“What’s the line|61]] between a friend and a romantic partner for you?” [[“Was there anything|62]] I could have done or can do to change your mind?” [[“Could I have ever|63]] known the answer without asking, without taking that risk?” [[“Are we keeping|64]] this whole thing just between us?”

“Yeah, I definitely have gone above and beyond, and I’m grateful that you appreciate that. If that bit of insight does anything to put your mind at ease, then I’ve done what I’ve set out to do." “And finally, I guess, umm, is there anything you wanted to ask me?” [[“What’s the line|61]] between a friend and a romantic partner for you?” [[“Was there anything|62]] I could have done or can do to change your mind?” [[“Could I have ever|63]] known the answer without asking, without taking that risk?” [[“Are we keeping|64]] this whole thing just between us?”

“Um, I mean, I don’t have a lot of time to spare, but if you think that’ll help, then I don’t mind pushing things aside for the next week or so. Don’t worry about making me uncomfortable — I’ve already taken the brunt of it.” “And finally, I guess, umm, is there anything you wanted to ask me?” [[“What’s the line|61]] between a friend and a romantic partner for you?” [[“Was there anything|62]] I could have done or can do to change your mind?” [[“Could I have ever|63]] known the answer without asking, without taking that risk?” [[“Are we keeping|64]] this whole thing just between us?”

“I should have seen that coming. Look, I think you need to date someone, somewhere — just not me, alright? You need to get into some kind of healthy relationship so you can sort this dating obsession out. No offense.” “And finally, I guess, umm, is there anything you wanted to ask me?” [[“What’s the line|61]] between a friend and a romantic partner for you?” [[“Was there anything|62]] I could have done or can do to change your mind?” [[“Could I have ever|63]] known the answer without asking, without taking that risk?” [[“Are we keeping|64]] this whole thing just between us?”

“Well, that’s kind of a tough question to answer. It’s just the butterflies, I guess. I mean, it’s supposed to be this ethereal, intangible thing, otherwise it wouldn’t be so special or whatever. But I guess that’s a cop-out answer if I’ve ever heard one. I just never really thought about it. It always just kinda comes to you, you know?” [[“Yeah, that’s definitely|61a]] a cop-out answer. Come on, you’ve clearly been thinking about this all day. You must have an answer in mind.” [[“I guess it’s not|61b]] your obligation to parse through everything you’re feeling, yeah. It’d just be nice to know how our relationship sort of molds your perception of how we interact.” [[“I hope you’re not|61c]] saying that just to spare my feelings. If it’s something about my appearance or character, I feel like it’d be best if I knew.”

“I wouldn’t know, otherwise I’d tell you. If you want the truth of it, I guess there is this ideal romantic partner in the back of my head who I’d be willing to commit my time to, but I don’t find it healthy to think in the hypothetical like that. And please don’t interpret that ideal partner as a goal for you to strive toward, because I couldn’t even characterize them if I tried, and like I said, treating those hypotheticals as realities is just gonna let you down, you know? [[“All that does is|62a]] cement in my mind that I could have gravitated toward a different persona — that ideal persona — and come out more successful for it. The hypothetical still speaks to truth, I feel.” [[“I guess it’s easier|62b]] to see circumstances align properly in your head than in real life. And expecting that fantasy to be anything more than a fantasy might be optimistic, but it might pretty heavily obscure your worldview.” [[“Even though it might|62c]] be pessimistic for me to dwell on what I could’ve done, I think it’d be toxic for me to try not to learn from it. And if those hypotheticals are my only insight into what could have been possible, I’m going to do my best to glean what I can from them.”

“If you wanna get technical, I guess you could have asked my friends or something. But I appreciate that you didn’t do that, even if you feel weird about it. Umm, I’m not sure if you could have gotten the answer directly out of me, though. I’m not really sure how you’d do that. But if it’s any consolation, it’s kinda cool that you feel like you put everything on the line to ask.” [[“I appreciate|63a]] the consolation, but that consolation prize isn’t a date, so I’m under the impression it’s a net loss anyway.” [[“I thought about|63b]] trying to flirt, but to me the idea of flirting always felt ingenuine: Like, why wouldn’t I be upfront? Why would I try to be deceptive or enigmatic, you know?” [[“Yeah, but being|63c]] upfront is exactly what put us in this incredibly awkward situation in the first place. If I had more self-control, I could have just kept things business as usual, and maybe something would have developed organically instead.”

“I mean, full disclosure: I did talk to my friend about it, and I imagine you talked about it with Amos. I get that, I think that’s fine. It’s definitely healthy to talk those feelings out, and if sacrificing an inconsequential amount of another person’s privacy means keeping you mentally healthy, then I think the benefits outweigh the risk. As long you don’t go and make, like, an art piece about the thing, I think you’re OK to voice whatever you’re feeling to whomever.” [[“Yeah, you got me|64a]] there: Amos and I talked about it a bit. I’m glad we’re OK with that, that’s a load off my shoulders. Certainly, there’s a line to be drawn, but hopefully we’re at a point where we can trust each other not to cross it without thinking about it too much.” [[“Yeah, but there|64b]] are definitely other ways to handle something like this than talking about it aloud. If there’s a more private way to cope or reconcile or whatever, I’d say that’s the more courteous option.” [[“I think the problem|64c]] is that once you open it to other people, it’s out of your control. And relinquishing the control that person gave you to someone else is, potentially, really dangerous and maybe rude. It might sound cynical, but you can’t trust everyone to keep things under wraps for you. Because it’s not just your privacy on the line; it’s both people’s.” [[“Art piece?|64d]] What are you talking about?”

“I mean, yeah, I’ve been thinking about it, but not in that kind of way. I don’t mean to give you a half-baked answer, but it takes some emotional investment for me to work through questions like that if you need an answer put into words. It’s a concerted effort I’d have to make, and it’s not one I’m keen on making. I hope that makes sense.” You both take a deep breath and pause for a moment; the conversation has been heavy, and you both look rather drained from it. At this point, party guests are starting to file out the front door as the party comes to a close, spoiling your and Linda’s privacy. Linda looks to you and cracks a wide smile. “You know what? I got a lot out of that. And I really, really hope you feel the same way. At least for me, it feels good that we’re on the same page and all that — it relieves a lot of the stress for me, I guess. Thanks again for coming out here and talking. I just really want you to know that I respect you so much as a —” [[Get interrupted.|cascade]]

“I’m not entirely sure what you mean by that, but I guess I can say that I come to you for friendly interactions, not romantic ones. When we grab lunch or hang out or whatever, I’m spending time with a friend, and that’s already very fulfilling for me. I don’t think about how things should be different, because I’d rather them not be.” You both take a deep breath and pause for a moment; the conversation has been heavy, and you both look rather drained from it. At this point, party guests are starting to file out the front door as the party comes to a close, spoiling your and Linda’s privacy. Linda looks to you and cracks a wide smile. “You know what? I got a lot out of that. And I really, really hope you feel the same way. At least for me, it feels good that we’re on the same page and all that — it relieves a lot of the stress for me, I guess. Thanks again for coming out here and talking. I just really want you to know that I respect you so much as a —” [[Get interrupted.|cascade]]

“Casey, that’s a weird place for me to be in. I could say I don’t like this particular quality or whatever, but that’s my perception, and I don’t want it to drive your behavior. I don’t want you to not be yourself, because I’m friends with the Casey who currently stands.” You both take a deep breath and pause for a moment; the conversation has been heavy, and you both look rather drained from it. At this point, party guests are starting to file out the front door as the party comes to a close, spoiling your and Linda’s privacy. Linda looks to you and cracks a wide smile. “You know what? I got a lot out of that. And I really, really hope you feel the same way. At least for me, it feels good that we’re on the same page and all that — it relieves a lot of the stress for me, I guess. Thanks again for coming out here and talking. I just really want you to know that I respect you so much as a —” [[Get interrupted.|cascade]]

“I don’t want this conversation to get too wrapped up in philosophy or metaphysics or whatever the relationship between the hypothetical and the real entails, but just don’t think like that. Letting how one person feels guide how you shape yourself doesn’t sound healthy, no matter how highly you think of that person. If you’re being the best person you can be, that’s all you can do.” You both take a deep breath and pause for a moment; the conversation has been heavy, and you both look rather drained from it. At this point, party guests are starting to file out the front door as the party comes to a close, spoiling your and Linda’s privacy. Linda looks to you and cracks a wide smile. “You know what? I got a lot out of that. And I really, really hope you feel the same way. At least for me, it feels good that we’re on the same page and all that — it relieves a lot of the stress for me, I guess. Thanks again for coming out here and talking. I just really want you to know that I respect you so much as a —” [[Get interrupted.|cascade]]

“That’s how I feel, I think. If you mean what I think you mean. Like, I hate the idea of telling someone not to think in terms of ideals, because that’s gonna stifle someone somehow, you know? But when it comes to relationships, when you’re dealing with a complex, flawed human being as intimately as possible, it’s much easier for me to throw those ideals out the window and take a more pragmatic stance on everything.” You both take a deep breath and pause for a moment; the conversation has been heavy, and you both look rather drained from it. At this point, party guests are starting to file out the front door as the party comes to a close, spoiling your and Linda’s privacy. Linda looks to you and cracks a wide smile. “You know what? I got a lot out of that. And I really, really hope you feel the same way. At least for me, it feels good that we’re on the same page and all that — it relieves a lot of the stress for me, I guess. Thanks again for coming out here and talking. I just really want you to know that I respect you so much as a —” [[Get interrupted.|cascade]]

“I see your point, and your desire to grow is definitely a good thing, but I think the ways a human being can improve — objectively, that is — don’t reveal themselves through dating or social habits or any kinds of, I guess, directed, intentional, interaction. The way I see it, you’re gonna find that stuff through introspection or by just acting as yourself and observing the consequences.” You both take a deep breath and pause for a moment; the conversation has been heavy, and you both look rather drained from it. At this point, party guests are starting to file out the front door as the party comes to a close, spoiling your and Linda’s privacy. Linda looks to you and cracks a wide smile. “You know what? I got a lot out of that. And I really, really hope you feel the same way. At least for me, it feels good that we’re on the same page and all that — it relieves a lot of the stress for me, I guess. Thanks again for coming out here and talking. I just really want you to know that I respect you so much as a —” [[Get interrupted.|cascade]]

“Fair enough, if that was what you really wanted out of today. But I think you made it pretty clear to me that it’s less about the date and more about the relationship. I think you want the latter more than the former, so in a way you did kind of ask about it in a roundabout way. That’s still a crummy consolation, but hey.” You both take a deep breath and pause for a moment; the conversation has been heavy, and you both look rather drained from it. At this point, party guests are starting to file out the front door as the party comes to a close, spoiling your and Linda’s privacy. Linda looks to you and cracks a wide smile. “You know what? I got a lot out of that. And I really, really hope you feel the same way. At least for me, it feels good that we’re on the same page and all that — it relieves a lot of the stress for me, I guess. Thanks again for coming out here and talking. I just really want you to know that I respect you so much as a —” [[Get interrupted.|cascade]]

“Well, flirting helps avoid situations like this, to put it bluntly. I get your apprehension toward social code, like flirting or the first date or whatever, but I think avoiding them altogether is just as ingenuine. Flirting is a legitimate way to gauge interest, and a little bit of cheesiness then saves a lot of pain later. Not to put you on the spot or anything.” You both take a deep breath and pause for a moment; the conversation has been heavy, and you both look rather drained from it. At this point, party guests are starting to file out the front door as the party comes to a close, spoiling your and Linda’s privacy. Linda looks to you and cracks a wide smile. “You know what? I got a lot out of that. And I really, really hope you feel the same way. At least for me, it feels good that we’re on the same page and all that — it relieves a lot of the stress for me, I guess. Thanks again for coming out here and talking. I just really want you to know that I respect you so much as a —” [[Get interrupted.|cascade]]

“Please, please, don’t move forward thinking if you had played it cool that things would have changed. I think you’re playing a bit of a martyr by saying that, quite frankly. Don’t think you’ve done yourself harm by being honest — that’s a slippery slope. If you think you could have changed things over time, don’t you think you would have done so already? That’s just my two cents.” You both take a deep breath and pause for a moment; the conversation has been heavy, and you both look rather drained from it. At this point, party guests are starting to file out the front door as the party comes to a close, spoiling your and Linda’s privacy. Linda looks to you and cracks a wide smile. “You know what? I got a lot out of that. And I really, really hope you feel the same way. At least for me, it feels good that we’re on the same page and all that — it relieves a lot of the stress for me, I guess. Thanks again for coming out here and talking. I just really want you to know that I respect you so much as a —” [[Get interrupted.|cascade]]

“And that bit of trust is what makes this easier for me to talk about, you know? I can go home tonight and not have to worry about who’s going to judge me for feeling how I feel, and you don’t have to worry about being embarrassed around other people. I think that’s really healthy, and I’m grateful things have panned out like this.” You both take a deep breath and pause for a moment; the conversation has been heavy, and you both look rather drained from it. At this point, party guests are starting to file out the front door as the party comes to a close, spoiling your and Linda’s privacy. Linda looks to you and cracks a wide smile. “You know what? I got a lot out of that. And I really, really hope you feel the same way. At least for me, it feels good that we’re on the same page and all that — it relieves a lot of the stress for me, I guess. Thanks again for coming out here and talking. I just really want you to know that I respect you so much as a —” [[Get interrupted.|cascade]]

“I think in a vacuum, you’d be right, but the fact that we can communicate with each other means we can establish boundaries for things like that. It’s nice to know you’re looking out for me in that regard, but if I give you the OK, then it’s on you to do what’s healthiest for yourself at that point.” You both take a deep breath and pause for a moment; the conversation has been heavy, and you both look rather drained from it. At this point, party guests are starting to file out the front door as the party comes to a close, spoiling your and Linda’s privacy. Linda looks to you and cracks a wide smile. “You know what? I got a lot out of that. And I really, really hope you feel the same way. At least for me, it feels good that we’re on the same page and all that — it relieves a lot of the stress for me, I guess. Thanks again for coming out here and talking. I just really want you to know that I respect you so much as a —” [[Get interrupted.|cascade]]

“Sure, I think when you abstract it that far, you’re right to say the moment we open our mouths to say something, the whole world might hear it. But I think that implies an underlying mistrust in your friends — or in yourself to keep the more sensitive bits private. I do think it comes back to trust, which luckily I think we have in spades.” You both take a deep breath and pause for a moment; the conversation has been heavy, and you both look rather drained from it. At this point, party guests are starting to file out the front door as the party comes to a close, spoiling your and Linda’s privacy. Linda looks to you and cracks a wide smile. “You know what? I got a lot out of that. And I really, really hope you feel the same way. At least for me, it feels good that we’re on the same page and all that — it relieves a lot of the stress for me, I guess. Thanks again for coming out here and talking. I just really want you to know that I respect you so much as a —” [[Get interrupted.|cascade]]

“Yeah, sorry, I don’t know where that came from.” You both take a deep breath and pause for a moment; the conversation has been heavy, and you both look rather drained from it. At this point, party guests are starting to file out the front door as the party comes to a close, spoiling your and Linda’s privacy. Linda looks to you and cracks a wide smile. “You know what? I got a lot out of that. And I really, really hope you feel the same way. At least for me, it feels good that we’re on the same page and all that — it relieves a lot of the stress for me, I guess. Thanks again for coming out here and talking. I just really want you to know that I respect you so much as a —” [[Get interrupted.|cascade]]

(if: $parking is 1)[Linda is cut off by a grating voice that harkens to the scream of the girl in loose clothing. You direct your attention to the noise — she’s about two feet away from you. “Alright, you fucking creep. I’m going to walk to my car, and if I catch you lurching behind me again I’m going to call the fucking cops. Understood?” The girl in loose clothing locks eyes with Linda and quips to her, “Watch out for this fucker,” before stepping into the night.](if: $parking is 2)[Linda is interrupted by a piercing voice that reminds you of a scream you heard earlier tonight. You address the noise to find the girl in loose clothing about two feet away from you. “Alright, you fucking creep. I’m going to walk to my car now, and if you decide to try and leap on me again, I’m going to pummel the shit out of you. Understood?” The girl in loose clothing locks eyes with Linda and quips to her, “Don’t let him get the jump on you. I’m serious,” before stepping into the night.](if: $parking is 3)[Linda is interrupted by a sharp voice that you immediately identify as belonging to the girl in loose clothing. After her first few words leave her mouth, it’s clear she’s talking to you. “Alright, you fucking creep. I’m gonna walk to my car now, and if you decide you want to try to lure me into the dark again, I’ll get my fucking knife. Understood?” The girl in loose clothing locks eyes with Linda and quips to her, “Don’t listen to a word this fucker says,” before stepping into the night.](if: $parking is 4)[Linda is interrupted by an unfamiliar voice, which you soon identify as belonging to the girl in loose clothing, who now stands before you. “Alright, you fucking creep. I’m gonna walk to my car now, and if you think you want to scare the shit out of me again just for fun, I will choke you out then and there. Understood?” The girl in loose clothing locks eyes with Linda and quips to her, “Hope you’ve got pepper spray,” before stepping into the night.](if: $parking is 5)[Linda is interrupted by a shrill voice that you immediately identify as belonging to the girl in loose clothing. After her first few words leave her mouth, it’s clear she’s talking to you. “Alright, you fucking creep. I’m gonna walk to my car now, and if you get the bright idea to make my life a fucking horror movie again, I will do everything in my power to make your life hellish. Understood?” The girl in loose clothing locks eyes with Linda and quips to her, “He’s not worth it, honey,” before stepping into the night.](if: $parking is 6)[Linda is interrupted by a harsh voice that you immediately identify as belonging to the girl in loose clothing. After her first few words leave her mouth, it’s clear she’s talking to you. “Alright, you fucking creep. I’m gonna walk to my car now, and if you get the bright idea to make my life a fucking horror movie again, I will do everything in my power to make your life hellish. Understood?” The girl in loose clothing locks eyes with Linda and quips to her, “He’s not worth it, honey,” before stepping into the night.](if: $parking is 7)[Linda is interrupted by an ear-wrenching voice that you immediately identify as belonging to the girl in loose clothing. After her first few words leave her mouth, it’s clear she’s talking to you. “Alright, you fucking creep. I’m gonna walk to my car now, and if you decide you want to lunge at my fucking jugular again or something, throw you in my trunk, drive you into the desert, and leave you for dead. Understood?” The girl in loose clothing locks eyes with Linda and quips to her, “Keep your car locked,” before stepping into the night.](if: $parking is 8)[Linda is interrupted by a really fucking annoying voice that you immediately identify as belonging to the girl in loose clothing. After her first few words leave her mouth, it’s clear she’s talking to you. “Alright, you fucking creep. I’m gonna walk to my car now, you decide you want to assault and then patronize me again, I will actually pull each of your teeth out with this pair of pliers. Understood?” The girl in loose clothing locks eyes with Linda and quips to her, “Lemme know if you’re short a pair of pliers,” before stepping into the night.] (if: $alcohol is 1)[Linda can only flash you a look before another voice echoes in your brain: Concert Headbang Guy. You find he’s shaking with anger just as violently as when you last saw him. He’s clutching the half-empty bottle in his hand, but it’s unclear whether he’s intoxicated. “Hey, buddy! I just wanted to thank you for making my night miserable on every account. It’s always a joy to have someone take my stuff and dictate what I can and can’t do, you know? It really brightens my day.” He scowls intensely at you, his eyes communicating that he’s either lost in thought or simply trying to hold himself back.](if: $alcohol is 2)[Linda can only flash you a look before another voice echoes in your brain: Concert Headbang Guy. His words are slurred, and the bottle of vodka in his hand has since been emptied. “Hey, pal! I just wanted to thank you for making my night miserable on every account. I love it when people steal my liquor and then pressure me into drinking what little I have left.” He scowls intensely at you, his eyes communicating that he’s either lost in thought or simply trying to hold himself back.](if: $alcohol is 3)[Linda can only flash you a look before another voice echoes in your brain: Concert Headbang Guy. He’s clutching the half-empty bottle in his hand. “Hey, friend! I just wanted to thank you for making my night miserable on every account. I’m so grateful when people waste my alcohol right in front of my face and pretend it’s inconsequential. It really makes that week of hard work feel worthwhile.” He scowls intensely at you, his eyes communicating that he’s either lost in thought or simply trying to hold himself back.](if: $alcohol is 4)[Linda can only flash you a look before another voice echoes in your brain: Concert Headbang Guy. He’s clutching the half-empty bottle in his hand — a $20 bill wet with its condensation. “Hey, companion! I just wanted to thank you for making my night miserable on every account. Sometimes it’s best that I work all week for a bottle of alcohol only to have it wasted by some spoiled brat who thinks he owns the world.” He scowls intensely at you, his eyes communicating that he’s either lost in thought or simply trying to hold himself back.](if: $alcohol is 5)[Linda can only flash you a look before another voice echoes in your brain: Concert Headbang Guy. “Howdy, partner! I just wanted to thank you for making my night miserable on every account. It’s always a pleasure when someone breaks my possessions and then gloats about it to my face.” He scowls intensely at you, his eyes communicating that he’s either lost in thought or simply trying to hold himself back.](if: $alcohol is 6)[Linda can only flash you a look before another voice echoes in your brain: Concert Headbang Guy. “Hey there, stranger! I just wanted to thank you for making my night miserable on every account. It’s always a pleasure when someone breaks my possessions and then tries to lie their way out of it.” He scowls intensely at you, his eyes communicating that he’s either lost in thought or simply trying to hold himself back.](if: $alcohol is 7)[Linda can only flash you a look before another voice echoes in your brain: Concert Headbang Guy. “Hey, guy! I just wanted to thank you for making my night miserable on every account. It’s always a pleasure when someone breaks my possessions and then flees the scene to avoid scrutiny.” He scowls intensely at you, his eyes communicating that he’s either lost in thought or simply trying to hold himself back.](if: $alcohol is 8)[Linda can only flash you a look before another voice echoes in your brain: Concert Headbang Guy. “Hey, compadre! I just wanted to thank you for making my night miserable on every account. It’s always a pleasure when someone breaks my possessions and then physically assaults me.” He scowls intensely at you, his eyes communicating that he’s either lost in thought or simply trying to hold himself back.] (if: $show is 1)[Linda looks to you, then to CHG, then into the dark into which the girl in loose clothing walked, and then back to you. You try to find the words to explain yourself but are interrupted once more — this time, by a friend: Amos. “Hey, man. I’m headed home, but I gotta tell you I’m kind of upset that you decided making a scene was more important than my music. Twice tonight, that is.”](if: $show is 2)[Linda looks to you, then to CHG, then into the dark into which the girl in loose clothing walked, and then back to you. You try to find the words to explain yourself but are interrupted once more — this time, by a friend: Amos. “Hey, man. I’m headed home, but I gotta tell you I’m kind of upset that you decided making a scene was more important than my music. Twice tonight, that is.”](if: $show is 3)[Linda looks to you, then to CHG, then into the dark into which the girl in loose clothing walked, and then back to you. You try to find the words to explain yourself but are interrupted once more — this time, by a friend: Amos. “Hey, man. I’m headed home, but I gotta tell you I’m kind of upset that you decided making a scene was more important than my music. Twice tonight, that is.”](if: $show is 4)[Linda looks to you, then to CHG, then into the dark into which the girl in loose clothing walked, and then back to you. You try to find the words to explain yourself but are interrupted once more — this time, by a friend: Amos. “Hey, man. I’m headed home, but I gotta tell you I’m kind of upset that you decided making a scene was more important than my music. Twice tonight, that is.”](if: $show is 5)[Linda looks to you, then to CHG, then into the dark into which the girl in loose clothing walked, and then back to you. You try to find the words to explain yourself but are interrupted once more — this time, by a friend: Amos. “Hey, man. I’m headed home, but I gotta tell you I’m kind of upset that you decided making a scene was more important than my music. Twice tonight, that is.”](if: $show is 6)[Linda looks to you, then to CHG, then into the dark into which the girl in loose clothing walked, and then back to you. You try to find the words to explain yourself but are interrupted once more — this time, by a friend: Amos. “Hey, man. I’m headed home, but I gotta tell you I’m kind of upset that you decided making a scene was more important than my music. Twice tonight, that is.”](if: $show is 7)[Linda looks to you, then to CHG, then into the dark into which the girl in loose clothing walked, and then back to you. You try to find the words to explain yourself but are interrupted once more — this time, by a friend: Amos. “Hey, man. I’m headed home, but I gotta tell you I’m kind of upset that you decided making a scene was more important than my music. Twice tonight, that is.”](if: $show is 8)[Linda looks to you, then to CHG, then into the dark into which the girl in loose clothing walked, and then back to you. You try to find the words to explain yourself but are interrupted once more — this time, by a friend: Amos. “Hey, man. I’m headed home, but I gotta tell you I’m kind of upset that you haven’t been really supportive of my music. I know it sounds petty, but you just always make a point not to clap, you know? Twice tonight, that is."] (if: $restroomignore is 1)["And I guess," Amos adds, "it doesn’t help that you were so cold to Amir and Elyse. They were excited to meet you, man, and you just shook them off. Whatever, man."] "I’ll see you tomorrow.” [[Continue.|final]]

After Amos steps out into the night, you look back to Linda, whose face now reflects some ghastly amalgam of confusion, frustration, and disappointment. You reckon you should say something, but it seems nothing you’ve done tonight, or today for that matter, has panned out well for you at all. So, instead, you give a despondent Linda a polite, silent nod and begin the walk back to your hatchback. Tough luck. (end.) [[Back to Menu|Introduction]]

This is Casey's Tedious Multimedia Text Adventure. This *was* a Unity project, until it got totally corruputed by a Unity update. Now, it is a Twine project. Ahoy. [[Part 1: Picnic]] - A short story about a morning. - About 5,000 words of unbridled wit. [[Part 2: Casey]] - A storyboarded short film about an afternoon. - About 9 minutes of case study-ing. [[Part 3: Afterparty|Intro]] - A text adventure about failing miserably. - About 5,000 words per playthrough. - About 20,000 total words of mildly branching narrative. [[Bonus: Interview]] - A mock promotional interview preceding the release of CTMA. - About 1,000 words of genuinely decent banter.

[[Chapter 1: Waking up.]] [[Chapter 2: Showering.]] [[Chapter 3: Making sandwiches.]] [[Chapter 4: Finding a container.]] [[Chapter 5: Buying ice, pt. 1.]] [[Chapter 6: Buying ice, pt. 2.]] [[Chapter 7: Parking.]] [[Chapter 8: Setting up.]] [[Back to Menu|Introduction]]

[[Back to Menu|Introduction]] May 12, 2018: Today, we sat down with Michael Smith, a UF mechanical engineering near-graduate, to discuss his thesis project: “Casey’s Tedious Multimedia Adventure.” CTMA is a short story, a short film, and a text adventure bundled into one program that tells the narrative of a day in the life of Casey. It’s currently available for download from its Facebook page, and the film can be seen on YouTube. David Hoffman: Thank for taking the time talk with us today, Michael. Michael Smith: It’s a pleasure to be here, Dick. DH: My name’s not Dick. MS: Then you’re fighting an uphill battle. DH: Tell me about CTMA. Give me a gist of what it’s all about. MS: No. Just go watch it. DH: Well, don’t you think you can still enjoy it even if you what it’s about? MS: No. I don’t think you can enjoy it at all, frankly. DH: I see your self-deprecation extends beyond your art. MS: I beg your pardon? DH: You know, you rag on yourself a lot. Just now and in CTMA as well. MS: Well, honesty is the best policy. DH: Tell me about your experience writing CTMA — MS: You keep calling it CTMA. DH: Yeah. “Casey’s Tedious Multimedia Adventure.” MS: Well, it should CTMMA then, shouldn’t it? DH: Why? MS: Because, you know, “multimedia.” M-M. DH: Multimedia is definitely one word. MS: Yeah, I know, but, you know, multi- is a prefix. It’s a modifier. DH: I don’t see how that changes the situation. MS: I think it should be CTMMA. DH: Well, for one, it’s an extra letter for an already very long acronym. Also, it’s not any more or less ambiguous by just saying CTMA anyway. MS: OK, I gotcha. That’s fine. You make some very good points. Uh, go ahead, then. DH: … So, tell me about your experience writing CTMMA. MS: No, no, please CTMA. I’m sorry I even brought it up. DH: … OK. Walk me through the process of making … CTMA — start to finish. MS: Again? I already did it once, you can’t make me do it again. DH: So, I take it you didn’t enjoy the process? MS: I learned a lot about myself. DH: So it was at least constructive? MS: Yes, but I borrowed the bricks from my ego. DH: What inspired you to write CTMA? MS: Now don’t go objectifying them like that. DH: Who’s the inspiration for Casey? MS: Noam Chomsky. DH: No, really. MS: I mean, he’s the archetypal clever schmuck. You know, Woody Allen or Louis CK but without the diddling. DH: The clever schmuck seems to have a track record of coinciding with predatory behavior, don’t you think? MS: I don’t see your point. DH: Would you call CTMA a biography? MS: Not for free, I wouldn’t. DH: Is this based on true experience? MS: Decline to comment. DH: Are there any parallels to be drawn with your life at all? MS: Decline to comment. DH: What would you call the transition between a ramp and a shooting star? MS: Decline to comet. DH: What was the hardest part of writing CTMA? MS: Getting rejected. DH: Oh, you mean writing the end of the Glenna scene? MS: No. DH: What’s your favorite part of CTMA? MS: The dread. DH: I don’t remember feeling any dread in CTMA. MS: Then you clearly didn’t write it, did you? DH: Who’re your influences? MS: Kaufman. DH: Oh, Kaufman and Hart? MS: No, no. Andy Kaufman. DH: You mean, the guy who wrestled women to try and prove they’re the weaker sex? MS: Um, yeah. Andy Kaufman. I’m pretty sure that whole thing was a joke, though. DH: Well, you know, he did actually wrestle those women. MS: Yeah, but like, he wasn’t really sexist or anything. DH: He just wrestled the women… because it was a joke. MS: I think your wording’s a bit off there, but you have the gist of it. DH: Interesting. Any more problematic influences? MS: Louis CK and Woody Allen. DH: Ah, right. Brilliant. What’s the biggest difference between you and your character Casey? MS: Well, I’ve read Vonnegut. DH: *(laughs)* So, does Vonnegut have a lot of influence on your work? MS: Yeah. Yeah, of course… DH: Do you want to talk about those influences? MS: Uh, yeah, sure. You know, Vonnegut does a lot of… [voice trails off] DH: Do you have a favorite work by Vonnegut? MS: Yes. DH: You’ve read Vonnegut, right — MS: Yes, because that’s the joke. The joke is that Casey hasn’t read Vonnegut, and I have, so it’s silly. It’s silly that he hasn’t read Vonnegut, because, you know, that’d be silly. DH: I thought the joke was that Casey was telling Glenna he read Vonnegut when it’s clear that he didn’t. Like, the irony lies in him not telling the truth. MS: No, of course, you’re right. Uh, that’s the joke. DH: …What inspired the character designs for Casey, Linda, Amos, etc. ? MS: Well, Linda to me is just supposed to be a generic pretty white girl. You know, she’s blonde, with the blue eyes and all that. DH: So, she’s Aryan? MS:... you know, the film’s in black and white so it doesn’t matter anyway. DH: Why is every single one of your design choices subtly problematic? MS: Decline to comment. DH: Do you feel like you’ve broken any new ground with CTMA — artistically or thematically, that is? MS: Nah, turns out “The Inbetweeners Movie” beat me to it. DH: Isn’t that a movie about high-schoolers? MS: I don’t see your point. DH: Alright, before we go, let’s end on some rapid-fire questions. You know, questions that wouldn’t generally fit the flow of our interview. MS: You mean joke setups that didn’t fit nicely in the script. DH: I beg your pardon? MS: That’s a nice change of pace. DH: Are there any jokes you’re expecting to fly over people’s heads? MS: Yeah, the funny ones. DH: One of your scenes plays out a lot like a standup routine. Have I found a metaphor in there? MS: I think you’ve found the reason I’m single. DH: What did you get, as an artist, out of writing and producing CTMA? MS: A migraine. DH: Are there any secrets to be found in CTMA? MS: No. DH: Why don’t I believe you? MS: Because you were always distrustful from a young age. DH: Are you proud of the finished product? MS: If I was proud I wouldn’t have written it in the first place. DH: Are there any scenes that didn’t make the cut? MS: No. DH: So you were happy with the first draft? MS: No, that’s why I wrote it. DH: If people like CTMA, how can they find you and more of your work? MS: 407-35 — DH: Are you reading out your phone number? MS: Well, I’m always looking for feedback, you know. DH: Alright, we’re gonna end it here. Thanks for talking with us, I guess. MS: My pleasure, Dick. [[Back to Menu|Introduction]]

[[Chapter 2: Showering.]] [[Back to Chapter Select|Part 1: Picnic]] Casey awoke to the sound of his alarm and immediately hit the snooze button. He tried to fall back asleep but was unable, now that the alarm had raised his heart rate and gotten his blood pumping. Casey was a light sleeper, but he was also an avid one, so Casey tried his best to settle down and lull himself back to sleep anyway. But, having put too much active effort into falling asleep, the attempt proved unsuccessful, and Casey was awake to hear the second alarm ten minutes later. At the advent of the second alarm, Casey made a pact to himself that this next ten-minute stretch would give way to a more successful snooze. Casey tried to take a moment to clear his mind, but the ten minutes he had spent awake had already led to him to think about Linda. The two of them were to go on a picnic that day, and as such Casey had set an alarm the night before. Casey, remembering his upcoming picnic with Linda, wondered whether his sleeping in was ultimately a good idea. After all, this picnic was important to Casey, and he wanted as much time to prepare as he could. However, he reckoned, the more sleep he got, the more efficiently he’d operate in the long run. Casey decided that ten more minutes of sleep would do him good, and that Linda would appreciate a more well-rested Casey anyway. But as he made this decision and put his head on the pillow, the second alarm went off. Casey, remaining steadfast and committed to his cause, smacked the snooze button with vigor and laid in bed — awake for ten more minutes. The third alarm rang, and Casey, a firm believer in the rule of threes, finally conceded and got out of bed. Of course, moments later Casey had to lie back down, having stood too quickly and having become unbearably dizzy. By the time Casey had come to, a fourth alarm rang, and Casey, a firm believer in the rule of threes who could have sworn he had hit the “sleep” button rather than the “snooze” button ten minutes ago, made a point to hit the sleep button three times and ambled toward the shower. [[Chapter 2: Showering.]] [[Back to Chapter Select|Part 1: Picnic]]

[[Chapter 1: Waking up.]] [[Chapter 3: Making sandwiches.]] [[Back to Chapter Select|Part 1: Picnic]] Casey only took hot showers. To Casey, cold showers were a death sentence — he lacked the fortitude to withstand them and regularly skipped out on maintaining his hygiene altogether in the wake of his apartment’s ever-so-frequent hot water outages. Casey turned the shower handle as far to the left as he could and let the water run. About thirty seconds later, he ran his hand under the water. It was cold. He waited another thirty seconds and wet his hand again. It was still cold. Casey considered whether the water on his hand from the first pass was at all diluting the temperature of the sample he had just collected. So, he dried off his hand ran it under the water another time. It was still cold, as he suspected. Comfortable in his sample size, Casey questioned whether the water would warm up at all, or if this was another accursed hot water outage. If it was the latter, then Casey’s picnic was in jeopardy. His bedridden hair was in total disarray, and no amount of combing was going to dupe Linda into thinking he had showered. Casey looked to the sink and considered dipping his head under the tap to, at the very least, get his hair wet and malleable. He then considered he could do the same with the shower, and wondered why he’d considered the tap in the first place. Casey turned back and made the executive decision to dip his head into the shower. It was scalding hot. Casey was grateful for three things. He was grateful that Linda was willing to meet him for lunch, he was grateful that the shower was ultimately a warm one, and he was grateful that he managed to avoid first-degree burns to his face, albeit narrowly. Casey stepped out of the shower and in front of the sink and stared into the mirror. He leaned closer and examined his beard, looking for impurities or otherwise belligerent hairs. For the longest time, Casey had sworn the bottom right corner of his beard protruded perhaps an eighth of an inch further from his chin than the left corner, but no one had ever pointed this out to him. Casey, certain that his peers’ silence must be a result of good manners and not simply ignorance, decided this morning was the morning he was going to even the odds. He proclaimed this to himself and was immediately taken aside by the multifaceted nature of the phrase “even the odds.” He understood that the definition of even meaning “balance” inherently came from the definition of even meaning “divisible by two,” but Casey had never before considered the relation between the two definitions of odd: “probability” and “not divisible by two.” Casey also considered the third definition of odd, “peculiar,” which he would later use to describe both the phrase “even the odds” and tomato soup. Casey noted that the “peculiar” and “not divisible by two” definitions align quite well, because if a group of people pair up and one person is left over, then they’re the odd man out, making them more peculiar than any of the paired members. Still, try as he might, Casey couldn’t link it all back to the “probability” definition. But by now, the electric razor had been running for about two minutes in his hand, so Casey made haste and evened his odds. [[Chapter 1: Waking up.]] [[Chapter 3: Making sandwiches.]] [[Back to Chapter Select|Part 1: Picnic]]

[[Chapter 2: Showering.]] [[Chapter 4: Finding a container.]] [[Back to Menu|Part 1: Picnic]] Casey walked into the kitchen and opened his refrigerator. Casey had bought cheese and various meats at the supermarket the day before, and so this morning he would prepare the sandwiches for his picnic with Linda. Casey laid out the meats, cheeses, and breads on the counter with the intent to make every combination of meat, cheese, and bread available — so Linda would have options, of course. Casey surveyed his breads: whole grain, wheat, and sourdough. To Casey, sourdough stuck out like a sore thumb against the whole grain and wheat loaves. Sourdough was an acquired taste, but it was also, Casey thought, of a higher caliber than traditional sliced loaves, so Casey was left in the predicament of deciding whether including sourdough would be worth the juxtaposition. He put the sourdough aside and told himself he’d make one sourdough sandwich for himself, at the very yeast. Casey laughed. Casey moved on to the meats. Everything seemed to be in order. He had bought sliced ham and turkey, and sliced the salami himself the night before. Casey gave the OK with the entire meat line and moved to the cheeses. Looking at the different cheeses laid out in front of him, Casey found it difficult to tell them apart. One was Muenster, one was gouda, and another was provolone. The cheddar and American cheeses made themselves known by their distinct textures and color, but the former three looked awfully similar, so Casey made a note to himself to keep a close eye on which slices he takes when he makes the sandwiches. However, seeing the rows of ingredients next to one another — all of which were sliced, he noted — he had significantly more cheese options than meat or bread. There was a total of five cheese options and only three meat and three bread options. Casey considered ousting two of the three ambiguous cheeses but quickly darted his eyes at the American cheese, which he knew would have to go if this picnic was to go swimmingly. American cheese, Casey knew, was real cheese, although popular culture had perpetuated otherwise. Certainly, there were false cheeses out there, but traditional American cheese — especially when bought from a deli — was far from false. Still, Casey knew the stigma surrounding American cheese and at first thought it would be best to strike it from the lineup. Then again, he thought, perhaps Linda would appreciate his worldliness, his insight on the secret validity of American cheese. Although he didn’t want to discredit Linda’s intelligence, Casey considered the latter to be unlikely and put the American cheese back in the refrigerator. Left with four cheeses, three of which looked eerily similar, Casey considered a taste test. However, he figured, his tastes likely wouldn’t match up with Linda’s, and she certainly couldn’t be called over for a taste test. At that moment, Casey regretted not having bought swiss cheese, as its obviously porous nature would have eased his burden considerably. At this point, Casey simply put away the leftmost cheese —provolone, he would later discover — and made twenty-seven distinct sandwiches with the remaining nine ingredients. Casey would eat sandwiches for the next two weeks. When presented with the decision whether to cut the sandwiches vertically or diagonally, Casey made the correct decision to cut them diagonally. Casey thought nothing much of the matter. [[Chapter 2: Showering.]] [[Chapter 4: Finding a container.]] [[Back to Menu|Part 1: Picnic]]

[[Chapter 3: Making sandwiches.]] [[Chapter 5: Buying ice, pt. 1.]] [[Back to Chapter Select|Part 1: Picnic]] Casey surveyed his twenty-seven distinct, individually wrapped sandwiches and considered his next step. He pulled from his refrigerator bottles of tea, soda, and water. He grabbed both a roll of paper towels and a heap of napkins from his kitchen table. He eyed the silverware drawer until he remembered they were eating sandwiches. Still, Casey couldn’t dismiss the possibility of Linda wanting a fork and knife, so Casey laid out a fork and a knife and rummaged through his cupboards for a few paper plates. After a few seconds of frankly reckless rummaging, Casey came across his cooler, which he also intended to bring to the picnic. Fulfilled, but not satisfied, Casey checked to see if he had a picnic basket to bring instead. After all, coolers are more closely associated with fishing trips and organ removals than picnics, so Casey would have much preferred a traditional picnic basket. However, five more rummaging minutes left Casey empty-handed. He had found brown bags, Ziplocs bags, and garbage bags — but no basket. Casey, it seemed, had to either resort to the cooler or improvise. He considered cutting the brown bags into thin strips and weaving them crosshatch, then adhering them with Gorilla Glue for a makeshift basket. Casey wondered how long it took for Gorilla Glue to dry and sat down at his computer to visit gorillaglue.com. He typed in the address and was redirected to gorillatough.com instead, the official website of Gorilla Glue. Casey wasn’t sure why Gorilla Glue would buy the domain name gorillaglue.com and then not use it. Casey researched the matter further and discovered that since his last investigation into the logistics of Gorilla Glue, the folks behind the product had gone corporate and expanded to include epoxies, duct tape, and other non-glue adhesives, all under the umbrella of Gorilla Tough. Casey thought that “Gorilla Tough” was a brand name that lacked the potency of “Gorilla Glue.” Casey cursed the corporate machine under his breath and visited ducktape.com to see if Duck Tape had met the same unfortunate fate. To his horror and dismay, Casey was redirected to duckbrand.com. Casey logged off his computer and, defeated by Big Adhesive yet again, pulled out the cooler from under his cupboard and filled it with bottles of tea, water, and soda, napkins, paper towels, a picnic blanket, a fork, a knife, and twenty-seven distinct sandwiches. Casey was missing ice. If he was going to use a cooler, he at least needed to fill it with ice. Casey reckoned the supermarket was going to have to be his next stop. He grabbed his cooler, left his apartment, loaded his cooler into his trunk, stepped into his car, and drove to the supermarket. [[Chapter 3: Making sandwiches.]] [[Chapter 5: Buying ice, pt. 1.]] [[Back to Chapter Select|Part 1: Picnic]]

[[Chapter 4: Finding a container.]] [[Chapter 6: Buying ice, pt. 2.]] [[Back to Menu|Part 1: Picnic]] Casey parked his car and stepped out onto the supermarket parking lot. Waves of shoppers and shopping carts flowed in and out of entrance and exit of the building. He caught a glimpse of the ice machine, situated just behind the exit doors. Casey considered his options. He decided there was no way he was going to withstand the riptide of exiting shoppers, so Casey cut his losses and allowed himself to be pulled into the vacuum that was the entrance to the store. Casey took his spot in the outskirts of the entrance door crowd. Person after person was slowly being sucked past the choke point — the entrance doors — and into the supermarket. Casey shuffled his feet every fifteen seconds to keep up with the breakneck pace of the crowd before him. By the time Casey filed past the doors and into the store, five minutes had passed. It was busy. Casey took a moment to get his bearings. He was by the bargain bin. Tomato soup was buy-one-get-one-free. Casey considered how often “buy-one-get-one-free” is shortened to “buy-one-get-one” and how that abbreviation nullifies the original meaning altogether. Of course, you’ll get one when you buy one, he reasoned. The important part is that you subsequently get one for free. Casey stopped himself and pondered what he considered to be the definition of buy. Does buying the item imply that the buyer received the item, or does buying only cover the act of payment? Can you buy something and then not receive it, or does buying something mean you’ve already received it? If you buy something online, have you not bought it until it arrives? Then again, regardless of when it arrives, the item is your property once you pay for it, and that’s the important part. Casey concluded that the ambiguity of property in general makes for a messy debate and moved on. Casey was looking for ice. Casey saw the ice, tucked away behind the checkout counters and just beside the exit doors, where masses of people were still leaving in droves with shopping carts full of buy-one-get-one-free tomato soup. Casey took a step toward the ice machine but realized he was also taking a step toward the checkout counters. He stopped himself; after all, he thought, he didn’t want to look suspicious by heading toward the exit without having yet engaged in any kind of checkout procedure. Casey looked back toward the tomato soup and considered grabbing a can. Then, he considered grabbing two cans instead, remembering the buy-one-get-one-free situation. Casey then realized that the only difference between a fifty-percent-off sale and a buy-one-get-one-free deal was that the latter required you to buy cans of tomato soup in even numbers. Afraid to delve too deep into the intricacies of supermarket semantics, Casey conceded and simply labeled the whole ordeal to be rather odd. Casey had the urge to scratch his beard and did so in haste. Casey approached the checkout counters and looked for an opportune route to the ice machine. Unfortunately, every counter was occupied by at least three shoppers, and there was no way around. Casey considered standing in line but quickly realized the clerks would think him awfully strange to have waited in line for nothing, especially with such a prime buy-one-get-one-free sale on tomato soup. Casey then considered stepping and sliding past the shoppers to get to the ice machine. However, the shopping carts mostly blocked the way, and Casey wasn’t adamant about making physical contact with any of these shoppers by mistake. Casey looked back toward the cans of tomato soup, but they gave no response. Casey watched them for a moment more, pushing his luck. The cans of tomato soup still did not offer Casey an out. Ultimately, Casey stepped in a line and grabbed a stick of gum by the checkout counter. His total was twenty-four cents. Casey checked his wallet. All he had was a twenty-dollar bill. [[Chapter 4: Finding a container.]] [[Chapter 6: Buying ice, pt. 2.]] [[Back to Menu|Part 1: Picnic]]

[[Chapter 5: Buying ice, pt. 1.]] [[Chapter 7: Parking.]] [[Back to Chapter Select|Part 1: Picnic]] Casey stepped past the checkout counter and put away his stick of gum, not wanting to spoil his appetite for the picnic. He stepped up to the ice machine and inserted three dollars in cash. Casey was rewarded with a loud thwack and a twenty-pound bag of ice. Casey was conflicted. On one hand, Casey hadn’t lifted more than twenty pounds since he had moved into his apartment. On the other hand, Casey was baffled at how cheap ice is. Casey, for a moment, considered never buying a water bottle again. He grabbed the top of the bag with his right hand. He struggled for a moment but managed to pull it out of the dispenser. As he walked with it, the weight of the bag threw him around a bit, and the condensation forming on the bag was causing it to slip from his hand. Casey, about fifty feet from his car, attempted to instead lift the bag with both arms. This time around, the weight was easier to handle, but the bag quickly chilled his hands and his forearms, and the condensation began to run down the bag and onto Casey’s shirt. Casey’s teeth chattered as he unloaded the bag of ice into the cooler in his trunk. Casey let out a sigh of relief, having successfully lugged and dispensed twenty pounds of ice into his cooler with minimal hassle and embarrassment. Casey looked down into the cooler to soak in his accomplishment — and noticed it was looking rather empty. Certainly, there were twenty pounds of ice inside the cooler, but the cooler was large, and Casey reckoned it could fit fifty more pounds on top of what he had poured in. Although this picnic was simply for a party of two, Casey wanted to ensure he was prepared, so he braved back into the supermarket for one more bag of ice. The second time around was much easier than the first. Casey made a point to avoid eye contact with any of the clerks, and his arms had gone comfortably numb after holding the ice for a while. Casey strode back to his car and realized he had left his trunk open while he was gone. He didn’t notice anything missing from the trunk but looked around to see if anyone nearby had stolen anything from his car. The only person Casey saw was an old woman dumping her groceries into her back seat. She made eye contact with Casey almost immediately. Casey froze for a moment and stared back. He realized that he had just approached his open car, but this woman had no reason to believe the car belonged to him. Did she suspect him of being the same kind of thief that Casey was looking for in the first place? To prove his innocence, Casey took the bag of ice in one hand, reached his free hand into his pocket, and searched for the unlock button on his car keys. That way, he thought, she would know he owned the car and would go back to throwing her groceries into her back seat. Casey wondered why the woman was putting her groceries in her back seat rather than her trunk. Was something in her trunk? Perhaps she had loaded all her other groceries in the trunk until it was full, then resorted to her back seat for the rest. Casey concluded she had simply run out of trunk space and gave her a nod of approval. At that moment, Casey remembered he still had to prove his innocence to the woman with the presumably full trunk, so he pressed the button on his car keys. However, Casey’s fingers were cold and numb from carrying the ice, so Casey had lost all feeling in his hand. As such, rather than press the unlock button, Casey unwittingly pressed the lock button, and his car responded with a loud honk. Casey, taken by surprise, dropped his keys and the twenty-pound bag of ice. The keys fell onto the asphalt with little damage. The bag of ice crunched as it hit the ground. The full-trunked woman widened her eyes at Casey before turning around, entering her car, and driving out of the parking lot. Casey looked down at the bag of mildly crushed ice. To Casey’s relief, the plastic bag had not been punctured by the uneven asphalt, so Casey picked it up and began to pour its contents into the cooler. About halfway through the bag, Casey checked on his progress and noticed the cooler was suddenly much more full than he had anticipated. Casey stopped pouring and examined the cooler more closely. Apparently, Casey figured, the translucent quality of the ice initially gave him the impression that it was taking up less space than it actually was, and now about thirty pounds of ice was comfortably filling more than half of the cooler. Casey looked back at the half a bag of ice and considered what to do with it. He couldn’t keep it in his car. If that ice wasn’t in the cooler, it would surely melt and make a mess. He couldn’t throw it away. That would be wasteful, especially while he was standing directly in front of its place of purchase. And he certainly couldn’t keep pouring ice into the cooler, or there would be no room for drinks or his twenty-seven sandwiches. Casey considered dropping of the ice at his apartment, but he knew he couldn’t spare the time — he’d be late to his picnic. Casey scanned the area, looking for answers. He saw a dumpster tucked away behind the building. But he also saw a homeless man begging for change just by the exit. Casey considered whether the homeless man would appreciate ten pounds of ice. After all, he thought, that’s ten pounds of clean water. Granted, it’s a plastic bag, full of ten pounds of clean water, but what if he would appreciate it? Casey decided he’d ask the man if he wanted the ten pounds of ice. He lifted the bag and approached him. The homeless man and Casey made eye contact long before Casey began to speak to him. Casey said hello, and the man introduced himself as Gabriel. Gabriel’s voice was hoarse and raspy, and his smile, although genuine, had its fair share of holes. Casey offered up his ten-pound bag of ice, but Gabriel gave a wide grin and politely declined, citing a nearby water fountain as a perfectly good water source. Casey, dissatisfied but still wary, reminded Gabriel the ice would make for some refreshingly cold water. Gabriel said the nearby water fountain was also cold, and that the fountain likely shared a water pipeline with the ice machine anyway. To this, Casey had no retort and instead asked what Gabriel needed from the supermarket. Gabriel’s eyes and smile both widened at Casey’s generosity. All he could ask for today, he said, was a can of the supermarket’s buy-one-get-one-free tomato soup. And so, Casey struck a deal with Gabriel. Casey stepped in his car and looked out the window. Gabriel was sitting blissfully with a can of tomato soup in each hand, six distinct sandwiches in a Ziploc bag in his coat pocket, and a ten-pound bag of ice leaning up against the wall behind him. Casey started the ignition and drove out of the parking lot and onto the main road. He never spoke to Gabriel again. [[Chapter 5: Buying ice, pt. 1.]] [[Chapter 7: Parking.]] [[Back to Chapter Select|Part 1: Picnic]]

[[Chapter 6: Buying ice, pt. 2.]] [[Chapter 8: Setting up.]] [[Back to Chapter Select|Part 1: Picnic]] Casey perused the streets surrounding the park and found that parking was tight. The park, and the adjacent avenue, were lively that day, and so cars were parked everywhere. Having circled around the park once, Casey considered parking further away and making the quarter-mile walk. However, Casey imagined it would be hassle to carry a cooler filled with twenty-one distinct sandwiches, bottles of tea, soda, and water, and about thirty pounds of ice down the street. He’d get sweaty and tired and otherwise unpresentable, he reckoned, so he looped the block a third time, pressing his luck. To Casey’s surprise and relief, a spot had opened, just by the park entrance. Casey took his opportunity and parked in the spot — tight between two other cars. Casey checked the time and realized his was early. He reckoned, though, that waiting outside in the hot sun wasn’t a much better idea than lugging a cooler filled with twenty-one distinct sandwiches, bottles of tea, soda, and water, and about thirty pounds of ice down the street. So, Casey kept his car on and let the air conditioner run. He only had about ten minutes to kill, he guessed, so Casey sat in his car and ran through his head the topics he was going to discuss with Linda — among them tomato soup, grocery placement, and the phrase “even the odds.” About two minutes into contemplation, Casey’s eyes wandered toward the rear-view mirror, where he saw the reflection of a car waiting behind him on the street. Casey looked behind him and deduced that the car was waiting for him. He remembered he had left his car on, so the other driver was likely under the impression that Casey was about to reverse out of the parking spot and leave. Casey knew he was going to have to break this driver’s heart, and the sooner he did it, the better. So, Casey turned off his car. The driver behind him drove away. Casey suspected the driver would make the same loops that Casey had earlier, so he needed to leave the car, otherwise he’d have to confront the driver again. Casey did not want to confront the driver again. Casey cracked open his door, and only then did it dawn on him exactly how close he had parked to the adjacent car. Casey had about a foot of leeway. Acting fast, Casey put his finger on the outside edge of his door and allowed it to press up against the adjacent car. Then, Casey squeezed his body out of the car, letting the resulting force be absorbed by his fingers rather than by the adjacent door. Before long, Casey was out of the vehicle with only minor indentations in his ring finger. Casey looked over the indentation and thought it looked a bit like what might be left over from having pulled off a wedding ring. Casey wondered if passerby might consider him a married man, but he then he couldn’t think of a reason why a married man would take off his wedding ring. In fact, the only reasonable explanation for taking off a wedding ring would be, he thought, to convince a secondary romantic interest that the person was not married — Casey froze for a moment. Linda knew he wasn’t married, right? Casey looked back at his ring finger. The indentation was still there. Casey began to sweat, as if he was standing under the hot sun. Casey looked up, and he was standing under the hot sun. He looked back at his ring finger. The indentation was clear as day, on the middle segment of his ring finger. Casey paused. Rings aren’t worn on the middle segment, he realized; they’re worn on the base segment, closet to the rest of the hand. He looked back at the indentation and thought. People might think he wore a wedding ring two sizes too small, perhaps. Casey told himself to avoid looking like a fool who wears an undersized ring, he’d tell Linda that his undersized wedding ring was in the shop getting refitted. Casey was satisfied with his plan. Then he thought it over again. Casey abandoned his plan. [[Chapter 6: Buying ice, pt. 2.]] [[Chapter 8: Setting up.]] [[Back to Chapter Select|Part 1: Picnic]]

[[Chapter 7: Parking.]] [[Back to Chapter Select|Part 1: Picnic]] Casey marched with his cooler toward the park gate. He stood on its threshold, the tips of his shoes suspended just off the edge of the sidewalk. The domain over which he stood was corralled by a black cast-iron fence, which cut through and severed a large field of green grass from the grays and blacks of asphalt, concrete, and other cast-iron fences. Trees dotted the field, many of them looming over other picnickers who took refuge in their shade. In each corner of the park stood a grill, two of which were occupied by families and their copious, various meats. Casey counted the number of different meats on the closest grill: three in total. Casey took it as a good omen, drumming the side of his three-cubed-minus-six-sandwich-filled cooler and tapping his foot. Casey’s eyes scanned the park, then darted back and forth between vacant spots of shade and spaces of reclusion. Scouting points of interest, Casey was constructing a list of potential picnic spots for Linda and himself. Casey had come prepared with a number of parameters by which he was going to judge the picnic-ness — picnic aptitude? — of a given spot. The first parameter was shade. The sun was out, and the clouds had passed; picnicking under the sun was out of the question, he figured. He counted five unoccupied trees under which the two of them could sit. Casey took note of those five spots and moved onto the second parameter: seclusion. Casey was not keen on hearing other people’s conversations, nor did he want others to eavesdrop on or otherwise disturb Linda and him. Casey wanted to make a point to put all his focus on Linda, after all. But, Casey considered, it’d be wise to save at least ten percent of his focus for eating one of the twenty-seven minus six sandwiches, lest he starve or look like a buffoon with an uneaten sandwich in his hand for an hour. Casey wondered if ten percent effort was too generous, since eating is habitual and can likely be done without much thought at all. Casey’s mind wandered from his list as he attempted to quantify the level of cognizance required to eat an average sandwich. The more Casey thought, the less comfortable he felt treating the intricates of eating as trivial. More than once he’d swallowed too early or bit his cheek while chewing; if anything, Casey concluded he was not paying enough attention to how he ate more often than not. Casey dropped the cooler to perform a few calculations on his fingers and correctly deduced he’d need, at the very least, fifteen percent of his focus to eat any of the given twenty-seven-minus-six sandwiches with ninety-five percent confidence. That left Casey with eight-five percent of his focus to spend on Linda. He wasn’t sure if this was worth the focus deficit, so Casey ran in his head a few simulations of the picnic, pitting one-hundred-percent focus against eighty-five-percent focus with standard sandwich consumption. After running three trials of each scenario — an adequate sample size for having to conduct it all in his head, he figured — Casey concluded that skirting the sandwich was not an option. At this point, a bead of sweat hit Casey’s hand, breaking his focus. The sun was still shining brightly. Casey looked to his bag of twenty-seven-minus-six sandwiches, which was surely warming, and made a beeline for the closest secluded, shady, stumpless tree. Casey set down his cooler and unfolded his picnic blanket. He scanned the ground for a spot that was relatively unimpeded by roots, ant hills, or otherwise unpleasant blanket foundations. A spot just a few feet from the trunk of the tree seemed valid, but Casey took a closer look and noticed that some soil was visible where grass had not grown. Certainly, it looked harmless, and it was pretty much level with the rest of the ground. But, Casey feared, there was also the possibility that the soil could be moist or malleable to the point where someone sitting atop it would find themselves in an uncomfortable divot. And no matter how he aligned the blanket, there was no way it couldn’t cover the visible soil. Casey debated whether he was worried over nothing. He concluded that he was. So, Casey devised methods by which he’d test the quality of the soil. Certainly, he couldn’t simply shove his finger in the dirt; he needed to look presentable, and a dirty finger, he figured, was far from presentable. Alternatively, he could simply prod the soil with his foot, but he feared that in doing so he’d create the divot he was working so diligently to avoid. Then it occurred to Casey that he could cover the divot with the cooler, which belonged atop the picnic blanket anyway. Content with the cooler-blanket-soil hierarchy, Casey took the blanket and positioned himself to lay it on the spot beneath the tree. He held the blanket in front of him, intending to fan it out over the ground, but Casey stopped himself. Which side, he asked, was the longer side? Luckily, Casey knew the picnic blanket was square and reminded himself at this fact. Casey stopped himself again. Which side, he asked, was the bottom side of the blanket? There didn’t necessarily need to be one, but the occasional blanket — picnic blankets especially, he recalled — have one side that’s soft and another side that’s more well-suited to handling dirt and grime. Casey turned the blanket to see the other side and concluded a visual analysis wasn’t going to yield any meaningful results. He tried rubbing each side of the blanket with his fingers but concluded that both sides were the same. Still, Casey wasn’t confident in the conclusion; perhaps his fingers were simply too callous to effectively parse the texture of a blanket. Casey needed a softer surface on which to rub each side of the blanket. Perhaps his own upper cheek was likely the best bet. Casey lifted the blanket up to his left cheek and rubbed the two together. He switched to the other side and repeated the process. Casey, having clearly felt the softest side, turned back to his position to finally lay the blanket. Linda was staring at him. [[Chapter 7: Parking.]] [[Back to Chapter Select|Part 1: Picnic]]