An open letter from the guy at the party who is just kinda hanging out in the kitchen by himself right now

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Hey guys, its me. The dude who is just kinda hanging in the kitchen by himself right now. I’ve been in here for so long now that if I even tried to rejoin the party at this point it would just be extremely weird.

Trust me, I wish I wasn’t in here, too. This really sucks and I don’t know what to do.

You mightve met me briefly in some sort of strangely forced introduction that neither of us wanted to partake in. Im Lukes coworker from three jobs ago. I’m only here because I ran into Luke at the grocery store last week and he begged me to come. Our mutual friend Andrea was supposed to come, too, but she bailed at the last minute. So I actually dont know anyone here besides Luke, and I barely know him in the first place. I retreated to the kitchen for a temporary respite from the party, but for some baffling reason, I am still in here.

I’ve been in the kitchen alone for about 25 minutes now and Ive started to hear people wonder aloud about why I am in here. Things have really spiraled.

Fucking hell this is awkward as shit. I don’t know how I let this happen.

Image: max knoblauch

If it wasn’t already obvious, I will not be joining the party when it migrates to the bar. You all seem great, but I am already too far into being “The Kitchen Guy” to possibly redeem myself tonight. I regret that this is your first impression of me, but I promise none of you will never see me again. This was a mortifying experience.

Goddammit. When people come in here to grab a drink now they don’t even acknowledge me anymore. That can’t be good.

All I really want to do right now is just get some Taco Bell and then watch 30 Rock at home in bed. Thats the only thing on my mind right now. My god does that sound pleasant. But here I am in this kitchen. Stuck. More stuck than you can possibly imagine, my friend. Things are bleak in here right now. I wish I could leave immediately but that is sadly impossible.

Ugh. Stupid, stupid, stupid. I should’ve left an hour ago when that guy Brent left. I missed my window. Fuck.

The front door feels like a gate to paradise right now; an unattainable, forbidden portal to freedom.

New plan: whenever the Uber shows up, I’m just gonna say some flimsy excuse, like that I have to go meet up with “my friend Doug” but might meet up with you guys later or something. It will be a self-evident lie, and everyone will see right through it. It’s just theater. Necessary theater for nobody’s benefit. I don’t know anybody named Doug and I will be asleep by midnight. Thats a guarantee. Now if I could just find a painless way out of here.

Hoo boy is this bad. A girl just came in and asked me if “everything was alright” and I pretended to answer a phone call. Christ. What in the hell was I thinking? There’s no way I’m showing my face in the party again after that.

Ugh.

The front door feels like a gate to paradise right now; an unattainable, forbidden portal to freedom.

All right. Enough is enough.

The time has come for me to walk into that living room, say something like, “Ahh, I forgot I had a thing I was supposed to do tonight” and face an insincere chorus of nice to meet you!s and thanks for coming!s. The final act of this humiliating performance.

Thanks for having me, man. I hope you have a nice rest of your life.

Thanks for reading Mashable Humor: original comedy every day. Or most days. We’re people, just like you, and we’re trying our best.

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Tags: alone culture drinking humor other party party-social-event watercooler

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