george

i thought i was there because of a party, but rigging equipment was everywhere and so many people were talking logistics of the upcoming shoot that it was quickly apparent it was only work couched in mild socializing, bottom shelf booze and crappy hors devours. the grounds and mansion were huge. at first it was difficult to find anyone because it was so crowded, but soon enough familiar faces popped up and i made small talk as i moved through the crowd and mapped out my route and quick exit. i spotted a woman i loathed and narrowly avoided being the audience for another of her chronic brain killing, depressive monologues when i managed to duck out of sight and move on before she caught sight of me. just then someone caught my sleeve and said, 'george is here.' 'you're kidding' i said, 'where?' he pointed up some stairs and i made a beeline. i entered the kitchen and saw george surrounded (as usual...) by a laughing knot of people as he told another of his stories. i just waited quietly and enjoyed his beautiful energy and thought about how he made everyone feel they mattered. after he delivered his punchline, waldo grinned, tugged his sleeve and said, 'look who's here'. george turned to me and said 'shandra!'. we shared a bear hug and just laughed. he said, 'why, what...where have you been?'. i answered, 'dude, you have a buffer zone'. 'oh yeah, that.' he said and laughed. we then exchanged numbers, laughed some more and waldo asked me to scratch his back before i took off.

as i drove down the mountain, i turned my music up loud and felt all the happy.