fumbling deaf, dumb and blind

Go to a party where you know no-one except the host. Arrive a little late, after a couple of courage-screwing drinks. Walk into a room full of people talking, people with their backs to you: confident, assured, rich, fashionable, successful people. They must be, mustn't they? People are talking to them. You can't belong to this, can you? The falafel-munching BoHo loft-conversion dwelling classes?

Lift up your head, throw back your shoulders, smile and dive in. Ask the questions 'How do you know...?' ' What do you do...?' Be aware that no-one thinks the answers to these questions are fascinating; they are merely keys to further conversation, to acceptance. Don't reject people who ask you the same things by cutting short your answers. Talk about the food, the weather, the pattern on the carpet: anything. They are only people; people who have trouble with taxi drivers, whose children wet the bed, whose hangover cures you just might actually want to know.

You might even begin to enjoy yourself. Someone might fill your glass, tell you about their boyfriend's anti-smoking policy, count the number of English people in the room for you. It could be good. It really could. You might belong.

Incidentally - Wasabi peas. You heard it here first.


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