Meeting

The party was now in full swing, couples glided across the laminate floor arm in arm, entwined with gowns and tuxedos, humming to the band high on the stage. I looked across the floor and could not pick up anyone's eye, and quickly glanced back to the barman, shook my glass at him and mumbled 'another straight please', he glared at me, and raising his hand he ruffled his thinning hair backwards out of his eyes. I turned back to the dancefloor and checked once again for somebody I even remotely knew.
Roughly fifty feet from me was an old friend of mine, he stood nonchalantly with his elbow resting on a nearby end table, clutching drunkenly onto his drink with his other arm, and his legs wobbling around madly. This man was not too old; although you wouldn't think so, and not too short; although you wouldn't think so. I'd always say he was in his mid fifties, or sixties, but with people of his calibre it is possible he could even be younger than me. Quite stocky around the belly, his face was also rosy and pig-cheeked. He seemed to be entertaining the few women around him, all of which seemed more interesting in his interesting choice of attire rather than his so-called jokes. His suit was ragged and unbuttoned, and his hair fell straight over his face. Sharply I necked down my fresh drink, and flushed myself from the bar stool. Now it was my turn to horde the cows, and weaving in an out of dancers I scarcely avoided awkward conversation. There were some who wished to dance with me, and some who wished to kill me; I thought it best to keep my head down.
Suddenly there roared a blast, like a steamtrain crashing into halt, from in front of me. 'JONATHAN, you sunnuvabitch, what in God's name are you doing here!' He lurched towards me flailing his arms out, initiating an awkward embrace, I reluctantly complied and the pungent scent of cheap smokes and gin festered in his cotton.
'Ronald I-' I started to say before he quickly interjected with 'oh call me Ron, we've known each other for long enough - now tell me Jo-' he stopped mid-sentence with wide eyes and a gaping mouth. I shuffled in my shoes, and tilted my head towards his. He was still for some time now, although it was possibly only a few moments, it seemed like hours. His drunkenness had captured the whole room. Slowly, Ronald's mouth closed neatly under his bushy white moustache. His eyes thinned and down came his eyebrows. At once I knew what the matter was. I chuckled, and whispered 'Jonathan, sir.' With an explosion of relief he screamed 'NATHAN!!' At the top of his voice. 'Jonathan! I knew it! I knew it! Hah, you must forgive me child, these sort of func-' and he had trailed off again. Having been in this situation many times I employed my usual technique, laughing for no particular reason, usually I laugh for a couple of seconds, and he seems to carry on for the rest of the night. Needless to say, this particular evening was no anomaly.
Skulking away, back into the gaggle of guests, something caught my eye on the far wall. A metal door with a bar across the middle had slammed shut, wondering what it was, I pushed past the dancers and through the door, onto a strange corridor. At one end there was an empty black room, I could see into it because the door had been kicked down it seemed, and at the other end was a small staircase with a boy leaning against it.
I lent back on the door, shutting it, and minding my feet I employed a slight stroll to meet this mysterious person. 'Well well, what're we doing out here all alone?' I jokingly mutter, I am unsure if this is actually rude or not. He flinches and hurries up the stairs with a cigarette and tosses it to the ground, stamping on it furiously. 'I'm s-so s-s-sorry! I didn't know you couldn't smoke out here! I'm sorry I'm sorry! I tried to get out of the front, I t-t-tried! But the man - he was a big man, and he had no hair - he - he told me that if I went out once, I would not be able to come back in! And I would not want that, no, not in the slightest! It's an excellent p-party, really, t-top notch!' He kept ramming his foot onto the cigarette, even though it was already completely out. As he noticed his foot doing this, he began to slow it down, and ever so mechanically, still with his leg suspended above the floor, ready to pounce on any flames, he turned his body towards me. 'You're not the host, a-are you?'
My eyes climbed the stairs and I saw him, standing then looking terrified. I chuckled and smiled at him, 'no of course not. I just came out here for some time to myself. You needn't be so,' I looked his expression of horror up and down, 'ghastly.' He began to laugh awkwardly, 'and also, do you really think this party is that good?' His laughter had picked up, and soon he was against the back wall clutching his stomach with comedy. 'You can come down you know,' I suggested. At once he went to place his raised leg down on the stair but slipped, and came tumbling down into a heap. I had wisely moved out of the way. He scuffled to his feet and hurriedly brushed dirt and dust from his clothes.
Now, clean again, he extended his right arm with an open palm. 'My name's William,' he smiled.