Changing the name now. Sounds better to meeee.
A couple of days ago, I was invited to go to a party with my family. A surprise birthday party at some fancy banquet. I’m forced into some dress and some sandals. Nail polish too (ugh). My mom and sister look really nice, while I’m in some dress and my straightened-already-straightened hair. Both are really excited to go.
I dread parties. All I do at parties, no matter what type of party or who it’s for, is eat the food, sit, and just look around. Repeat. I really suck at socializing at big occasions.
We get to the banquet, and find our tables. My sister goes to a different table with her boyfriend, me sticking to my mom. We sit, and … just sit.
We get served soup. I eat the whole bread loaf.
Salad. Plate clean.
Dinner comes, and it’s chicken, fancy mashed potatoes, veggies,, gravy. I eat all of it. All the people at the table have leftovers and I’m just eating more bread.
Ice Cream and Cake. I eat all of it, and my mom’s too while watching my sister perform for the party.
A huge mariachi comes and starts playing a number of mexican songs. People are dancing, having a good time. My mom wants to dance but has no partner, so she keeps on asking me to be her partner to dance. I refuse. I would dance, if I knew HOW to dance. I can’t move my hips, twist, dance batchata. Nothing.
A couple of hours pass. A close friend keeps on telling a group of guys my age to dance with me, and they run away to avoid the question. Nyeh…
Few minutes pass, and my mom literally drags me to the dance floor. She dances all nice, while I’m staring at the floor waddling in place. She tries making me dance, but I know I’ll make a fool of myself. Heck, I already am making a fool of myself. I feel horrible. I try walking back to my seat but she grabs on tight. Tears are coming out my eyes. People are staring. I’m stupid.
We finally walk back to our seats. Tears are streaming down my face now. Some people get upset and just glare. Even the guy that this whole party is for tries making conversation. I just want to be home.
When we DO get home, I feel so ashamed of myself, not being asked to dance, can’t dance, eating too much.
So I cry to sleep, wishing this all never happened.