MINNA DINNER

I must admit, I am proud to be the writer of this (If I do say so myself) fine piece of literature!

Last night I attended the most fabulous party I’ve ever had the honor to be invited to. It may come as a shock to learn that it was none other than my Aunties 50th birthday party. The night consisted of cocktails, gifts (not only for my Aunty but for every guest there), ball gowns, suits, chandeliers, waitresses, a band and, best of all - my family and all of their friends. I’ve literally dreamed of going to parties like this one, where the dancing is like it is in movies and the people there are intelligent, well-traveled and fashionable. I sat and soaked up the atmosphere, feeling ‘grown up’ holding my cocktail glass listening to the Burt Bacharach song “Close To You” while watching a couple dance. This couple consisted of a man wearing a vintage 30’s suit and a printed tie, a real gentleman with class and a good sense of humor. The woman was one of the most fabulous women I have ever been in the same room with. She was dramatically tall, startlingly thin and wore a black velvet cape over a sparkling grey and silver patterned dress. Her facial features were not pretty but it was because she wasn’t pretty that she was beautiful. They danced together for the entire night, through the big band sounds of “Perfect”, “You’re just too good to be true” and the ever popular “Moondance”. They had moves for everything, not daggy or dated moves but moves that were real and old-fashioned and magnificent – to describe them I would was a combination of Motown, 20’s, 30’s, swing and rock and roll. I was in absolute awe of these people. I looked up at them as the perfect couple. Not perfect in looks or even personality but perfect in their profound connection with one-another. They were perfect for each other – and I’m not one to throw the word ‘perfect’ around. I envied them and their ‘moves’ and their clothes and their jokes and witty banter and riches and ability to be the presence of the room – so I asked my Aunty about them.

“That women in the cape over there? She is a friend of mine who is struggling with anorexia – she comes across as confident but really she’s very, very insecure. The man dancing with her is her husband, they’ve been together for some time now, yet her disease is taking its toll on him. Why do you ask?”

“No reason” I stated, because suddenly I couldn’t remember the reason I had asked. I looked over at them basking in all their perfectness and wondered exactly how these people made anorexia and relationship struggles look to appealing to me. It scared me that, while still watching the two spin around and around – I would do anything to be them in all their perfect imperfections, dancing to Burt Bacharach, looking into each others eyes struggling to define why it was they were still together. The exquisite pain their relationship embodied was beautiful – and after witnessing the man quietly slip the woman’s black velvet cape back over her emaciated body – I realized that these two personified a weird connection that modern humanity has dubbed ‘soul mates’. There it was, right there in front of me – the evidential proof that confirmed the biggest modern relationship myth in the world. Fate connected these two souls at birth – and somehow they had found each other. I looked on with envy – it all seemed so easy – out of all the people scattered throughout the all countries and the seven seas, they lived in the same city!