Strung Read Free Page A

spin and suddenly I'm feeling like a spare part, even more uncomfortable than when I arrived.  My little safe haven, behind my traitorous potted friend, feels achingly lonely.
    At that moment, a waiter knocks a jug of liquid from the banquet table, forcing me to move as a small squad of uniformed personnel, sweep in to clean up.  I drift around the edge of the room, spying another tall plant, which might offer refuge, and reach my goal, un-accosted.
    I cannot see the dance floor very well from here and for some reason this irritates me.  I gaze across the ocean of sparkling evening gowns, feathered masks and black ties, feeling more and more out of place as the minutes drag on.  I really just want to go home now, before the speeches start and I am forced to take my seat - wherever it is.  Giving my empty glass to a passing waiter, I plan the best route to the exit, located near the improvised bar.
    Then I see him.  His perfectly proportioned body is leaning against the bar, his eyes probably scanning the crowd.  A steady stream of guests, men and women alike, stop to chat with him before moving on.  Sometimes he smiles, other times he just nods and mutters a few words.  A beefy man, in a 'Jason' hockey mask stops approaches and they embrace warmly.  Together, the two men stroll off, disappearing into a back room.  Maybe he's part time Toy Boy, part time gay! 
     
    ~.~
     
    I give Victoria the abbreviated version of events, omitting the part about me hiding, feeling plain and consciously not putting effort into my appearance, more than well aware of how self-defeating my actions are, without a lecture from my well-meaning therapist.
    "Oh my, so Acacia puts her proverbial foot in it – again!" she mocks almost gleefully.  Victoria is using all her willpower, not to burst into gales of laughter.  I sigh deeply, having suffered my humiliation last night, I am beyond that now.
    "So, tell me," she asks, the corners of her mouth still twitching with mirth.  "Do we know who he is?  My invitation didn't mention the name of a host, just the name of the charity."
    "No clue," I sigh. 
    "What attracted you?"  Victoria leans her chin on her fist, waiting for me to offer an explanation.   I think back to our encounter. 
    "Well, with my heels on he was only a little taller than me.  I know he had very dark, thick hair, possibly quite long; but it was slicked back, so hard to tell.  His mask hid most of his face.  He was well built but graceful, if that makes any sense at all, and he smelled amazing."  I inhale deeply at the memory but get a lungful of lavender room freshener instead.  "But the most notable thing was his presence."
    "What do you mean?" she asks, unfurling her fist to rest her chin on the heel of her hand instead.
    "I'm not sure.  It's hard to explain but he gave off this thing , this feeling - I can't articulate.  Next to him, I felt safe but in danger, calm but alive.  It scared me, but I wanted more.  Anyway...”  I shrug.  "...this much older woman came along and dragged him away. 
    “I watched him for a while.  People gravitated to him the whole evening, but it was not as if he was an exhibitionist.  At least I don't think so.  He was just there, graceful and self contained and people came to him."
    "He sounds like the perfect Alfa Male," Victoria states, smiling.
    "What?  No!"  I gape at her horrified. 
    "Acacia, what?" she asks , concerned.
    "I can't be attracted to that kind of person again?”  I wail, the tears threatening.
    "Acacia, calm down.  There is a world of difference between an Alfa Male and a Narcissist!  On the surface, yes - people gravitate toward them both but the reasons are different.  An Alfa Male is in control... of himself , and for no other reason than he knows what he wants and what he needs to get it.  He is self-confident and it is a natural, honest thing.  People gravitate toward him, because they trust him.
    "A Narcissist tries to be an Alfa