Gatsby's Party

It was about 4pm when we rolled up to Gatsby's estate. My driver dropped me off on the corner of the street by my request-- I wanted to enter the party on my own, I wanted to watch the people in this party, I wanted to observe. When I got inside I was greeted by a butler who greeted me by my full name. I didn't think too much of it though, when you're as important as me, flattery does little in the grand scheme of social contact. Its just a way for the boot lickers to suckle some attention from the social elite.

I picked out a man in a white flannel shirt sitting at the cocktail table, pensively sucking down drinks while looking about at the party. He really stuck out, most people were talking amongst each other; each part of the vital, necessary cliques, and he was sitting here. Alone. I took a seat at an adjacent table.

I could tell that this man was not from the long island area, and certainly not from any particular wealth. He was like a transplanted tropical plant in the middle of a desert, with no solid accepted connections to anyone -- he was a complete outsider. I felt sick thinking a wayward man like this was invited to the same party as I was. I was part of something I belonged to, and this man, for whatever reason, wasn't. It was not a respectable way of living, and I didn't like him for it.

That didn't change my curiosity with him, though. I kept a watchful eye over him as I sipped my cold beverage at the table, waiting for what else this character could prove to me. Soon after, I overheard a conversation with him and a woman I recognized from East Egg... I cocked my ear in their direction as they walked towards a set of marble stairs, apparently, I gathered, the man's name was “Nick.” His last name is unknown to me.

I decided to give it a rest for a bit. I was tired of straining my ears to listen to the conversation, it was too much effort. So instead, I swayed on over to a group of girls I recognized from East Egg. And, of course, I was greeted with enthusiasm as soon as I did. Three or four drinks later, I found myself in the middle of a distasteful conversation about something I had no interest in. These girls simply did not have the level of intelligence needed for a fulfilling conversation, I didn't expect them to, though. It was the physical aspect I was aiming for.. Regardless, I finished with them, and found my eye on this strange otherworldly phenomenon, which is known now to me with a first name: Nick.

I was inside of Gatsby's estate now. The world jazz, or whatever it was called, was playing in the background as Nick was having a discussion with the host: Jay Gatsby.

The two chatted back and forth..I was able to pick up what they were speaking about, something about war gibberish, babbling about battles and what divisions they were in. I noticed that Nick made a mistake, he didn't realize that he was speaking to Gatsby.. it was surprising. Gatsby took it out on himself, though. It seemed that Gatsby's system of values was very much different than my own. He didn't judge others by their possessions or their status, he seemed very.. accepting. I saw it as simply a weakness, someone who didn't know where to belong. I may not like these two people personally, but I still found them very interesting.