Love Letters: Debriefing

Note to self:

Karin, remember.

You can try. But face it.

You're just not the kind of girl who goes solo into a bar with 200 mingling people you don't know, especially a crowd made up primarily of 20-something women drinking martinis and, most clearly obvious by virtue of dress and over-shouted confidence, dying to engage the handful of men in the room and, like you, seem dying to make some sort of adventure out of the awkwardness,

(and you're not looking down on this crowd, you're really not, but you can see them so clearly, see their hopes so obviously, and you can see yourself in contrast and in common, and wonder how the handful of men see both themselves and you)

so you should clearly do just what you did, which was to throw back that first glass of sangria, exit the scene in your (also too obvious, you think) knit dress and Mary Jane heels and instead go solo to the late movie at Kendall Square, (a far more forgiving endeavor, to be sure) without any regrets for having tried the former,

but again remembering what made you leave.