STROBE LIGHTS ON A PARTY

Our staff Christmas party was this week. It was almost an overwhelming experience. There were 160 people there, and it was loud and dark. In Montreal, at a party, even the anglophones for the most part were kissing cheeks. So many kisses, so many cheeks. It was a blur! Even so, there are moments I remember so vividly. And if I think back, there is one face I see in a sequence, like a strobe light.

"Hello Darling!" was the first thing he said, and he came up beside me and I saw the first flash of his bearded face, a little long.  I didn't have a response to that. "Hello, sir?" (If I had a second chance, I would say "Hello, dear!") Without touching, we do cheek kisses before he disappears.

The next was at the bar. I only remember his eyes. This was the last moment I saw him sober, and as he was holding up a double shot of tequila,  I thought there was an offer in his eyes, which I declined with a shake of my head, but now I wonder if he was just expecting me to hold up my water glass and say cheers (if I was even holding a glass; if he was even looking at me.) I think, no good has ever come from a double shot of tequila.

Another flash, and he is walking up to a table full of people who greet him, welcoming him to sit at the one empty seat.

Again, later from the left, in my peripheral vision, he is wearing a red glow-in-the-dark Rudolf nose from the girls from Nez Rouge, getting laughs.

Next, he's crouching by a girl in heels. He stands, has his hand grabbed, and is pulled out of view again.

On my way back from the bathroom I stop, when he is at the entrance, slurring his speech and wobbling. I ask him what his lapel pin is, and he loves the ambiguity of it. In my heels, I am a little taller than he is. I don't remember what he is wearing. Jeans? But he leans very close, and lurches closer, then stands upright again, and I am sad. Why would this man, so smart, agile, clever and charming let himself be this dumb, disabled version of himself after all the alcohol abuse we see at work? Why is this not enough for me to turn off the strobe light?

The last flash is him coming in from the parking lot. He nods, someone following, as I exit. Then the night is dark again, and I drive home. My retinas have the picture of him etched in shadow, even now. I know he might not even remember me at the party, but flashes of his face keep coming back, no matter how hard I try and forget them.