11/03/2005

Chapter Two: Saturday Night Fever, Part One

"You stop at all of the greasy nasty-ass truck stops and you never get a proper rest. But every night you party like it's the last night that you're ever going to have to party."
-Busta Rhymes

When Jake arrived at Elizabeth Grant's townhouse, he noticed several cars already parked nearby. He parked in the last available guest parking spot, exited his car, and locked the doors. Elizabeth's beige-colored townhouse was located at the corner of Crestline Drive and Pinnacle Road. From the kitchen windows, one could see the vast, green expanse of Woodlawn Park. From the second floor windows, one could see Davis University located on top of Nichols Hill. It was the more photogenic side of Davis University. Some of the more better known buildings on campus were ugly and would have ruined any picture, even ones with fuzzy bunnies and picturesque sunsets.
Jake rang the doorbell and the door immediately opened. He saw it was a female who greeted him and led him inside. She looked like Elizabeth, but she didn't look quite like her. She was stunningly beautiful, with sky-blue eyes, but the hair wasn't the honey blond that Elizabeth had. Normally, he would have called her Elizabeth instantly, but it would have been awkward to call her Elizabeth and find out that it wasn't whom he thought it was. Jake had problems putting names with faces. Once he did put a name with a face, he had no problems, just as long as the face remained constant. He decided after a few seconds that it was safe to call her Elizabeth.
Jake said with some embarrassment, "Hello, Elizabeth." He explained his confusion by saying, "You look different with brown hair. I didn't recognize you for a moment."
Elizabeth laughed. She replied, "Hi, Jake. You were never good with putting names to faces, even your close friends."
Jake said, "Yeah, I'm not that good. The brown hair just didn't fit my mental picture of Elizabeth Grant."
The last comment piqued her interest. She said, "That's an interesting comment. So Jake, what is your mental picture of me? I'd like to know."
Jake crossed his arms, paused for a moment and said, "Well, in my mental picture, you're tall. Blue eyes the shade of a clear sky. Long, honey-blond hair. In total, stunningly beautiful. In my opinion, I prefer the blond hair, though the brown hair is nice." He quickly added, "You're still beautiful with the brown hair. Um, that came out sounding funny."
"Actually, it wasn't funny sounding. It was a nice compliment. Thank you." She looked at him and gave him some advice in a good-natured way. "Relax and don't be so self-conscious. If you're afraid of giving a compliment to your friend, then how are you going to give a compliment to a girl you like? Come on in. Have some fun for once."
Elizabeth hooked her arm around his arm and she led him down the hallway to the living room. She introduced Jake to her friends from Lowell & Park and to her neighbors at Foxbridge. A large majority of the guests were from Lowell & Park, and a few were from Foxbridge Townhouses. Jake exchanged the expected social pleasantries with all of them--saying hello, exchanging names, and shaking hands. Despite Elizabeth's presence near him, he felt uncomfortable within the large group of strangers. Jake always felt like he didn't belong anywhere, even at Davis Law School.
Yes, he was a law school student; yes, he had several friends there. And yet, despite this, he felt out of place. Davis Law School, like many other law schools around the nation, had a concept called "small sections." New 1L students were placed in groups of about 20 during the first year. This group of students had the same schedule during the first year of law school and had one class where they were the entire class. According to law school logic, they would be the people who you knew the best and would become friends with. The law school logic was commendable and to an extent, it worked. Some of his better friends at Davis Law were in his small section, but he still felt like a loner.
Jake rarely went to TGIT and drink, as he didn't drink that often. It looks odd to be at a bar and not drink. He didn't care much for what others were watching like Grey's Anatomy, Desperate Housewives, or any of the popular culture phenomena on TV. In all reality, he preferred television shows like Nova on public television more than what most people considered "must-see TV." He didn't care much for hot websites that others were surfing. Jake didn't care for trends and wearing the latest fashions. He liked basic clothes, the traditional and classic things like jeans, black suits with white collared shirts, khakis, and polo shirts in solid colors. Nothing too garish like neon or t-shirts with phrases. He found it ironic that it was now cool to be uncool, something he had done all of his life.
He went to some law school functions and found them to be fine. Underneath, despite all of the noble causes they were promoting-- public service, academic recognition, or fundraising--law school events were excuses to consume the many forms of alcohol than man invented. It all boiled down to alcohol consumption of prodigious amounts. Well, for those who did drink, sometimes too much, it afforded for a handy excuse. Yes, you drank and came home a little drunk, but it was for a good cause like hurricane relief. That or meeting future employers.
Jake wished he could see someone he knew. At least he wouldn't feel totally out of place. Just when Jake thought he would be spending a lot of time with people he didn't know, he recognized two people from Davis Law School.
Elizabeth pointed across the room and said, "The girl over there is Elle. And the standing next to her is Clarissa."
Jake said, "I know who they are. They go to Davis Law School."
Elizabeth said, "Yes, that's right. They live here at Foxbridge. In fact, they're my neighbors. Well, I've introduced you to everyone here. And Jake, don't hide in a corner." And with that, Elizabeth walked across the room to talk to some of her coworkers from Lowell & Park.
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That left Jake with one option. He walked towards the bar for a cold drink, preferably something alcoholic. Though Jake wasn't big on drinking, he did allow himself a drink or two. Never more than two drinks or he got a terrible headache the next day. Being an Asian, he couldn't tolerate alcohol very well. His liver, the organ that metabolized alcochol, lacked an enzyme that did this job efficiently. This enzyme is called ethanol dehydrogenase. It was a genetic predisposition he could do very little to change. Most male Asians like drinking alcohol and built an amazing tolerance to alcohol. It was a cultural thing. His male relatives on his father's side could drink a lot, but they ended up dying at the age of 40. One of them, his great-grandfather died a death worthy of a Darwin Award.
According to the often-repeated story Jake's uncle told, Jake's great-grandfather got drunk and decided to cross a frozen lake, as he was late coming home from the tavern. Apparently, he was a hopeless drunk and this behavior was very common. He fell through the ice and nearly drowned. Due to a minor miracle, his great-grandfather managed to crawl out and save himself. At this point, the story wanders into the realm of the unbelievable and the impossible. What did he do? He had a celebratory drink which led to several more. Then he passed into an alcohol-induced coma and blacked out. If that wasn't bad enough, it began to snow and he froze to death. The kicker? He still had the jug in his hand.
At this point, Jake and the people he tells this story to are laughing. Most were laughing by an earlier point. Yes, someone died a most tragic death, but it was a death that possesses an absurd level of comedy. At least his death would serve a good purpose. Jake hoped to avoid becoming the main character of such a story.
Jake reached the bar and examined the choices he had. He didn't feel like wine. He didn't want anything too strong, or he would get a headache much faster. After eliminating those choices, he decided to have a beer. He scrutinized what beer options he had available and decided on a Guinness, the venerable English stout. Jake noted the Guinness was kept at the proper temperature: cool, but not icy-cold. He believed a proper Guinness should be served cool. He also believed Corona should be served icy-cold, as it was a nice foil to the heat and spice in Mexican food. Everything had to be done correctly if it were to be enjoyed at its best.
Jake took a tall glass and carefully poured the Guinness into the glass, making sure he had the right amount of foamy head on top. He spent two weeks in London and during that time, Jake developed a taste for English stout. He questioned bartenders how to properly pour Guinness. It was obsessive, but Jake believed everything should be done right, even if it was time-consuming. After he poured his Guinness, he took a sip. He saw Elle walking towards the bar.
Jake said, "Hello, Elle. Want anything?"
"Hey Jake," greeted Elle with a wave and a quick hug. "How are you doing? Could you pour me a spot of wine? Make it a red one. And don't skimp. Bloody places here don't serve enough."
Jake picked out a wineglass and poured out two fingers of red wine into the glass. He noted that Elle looked at him disapprovingly and he added another two fingers to the glass. As an afterthought, Jake added another finger of wine before he handed the glass to Elle.
Elle took several long sips of wine and sighed in satisfaction. "There's nothing better than wine. How I could sing its praises. If I were only near my beloved wine all the time." She took on a more serious look and added, "What brings you here, Jake? You aren't known for you busy social schedule."
"Elizabeth invited me to this party and I accepted the invitation. She's one of my best friends."
Elle took a long sip of wine and took another sip of wine. "So, how is law school going? I heard from some people that Constitutional Law is a boring class."
Jake sadly sighed and stated, "What you're hearing is all false. Absolutely false." He lowered his voice and hissed with vehemence, "It's worse. Much worse. Imagine the most fiendish, horrible torture that can come from Hell, but multiplied by a thousand. That's Con Law at this moment." He drank a quarter of the stout in his glass and continued. "I should have waited until the spring semester to take Con Law. I heard Professor Alliston was much better. At least less boring."
Elle replied, "That's too bad. I'm glad I'm not taking Con Law until next semester."
Jake said with some sarcasm, "Actually, it isn't that bad. If I took Con Law in the spring, I would have taken Professional Responsibility this fall. I heard that class was boring and pointless."
"Jake, as much as I'd like to take with you, I've got to go. Now. I think a very handsome guy is looking at me." She turned her head in the direction of someone Jake remembered as one of Elizabeth's male neighbors. His name was Alex. The one Elizabeth described as looking like Patrick Dempsey or was it T.R. Knight on Grey's Anatomy. He understood from Elizabeth's description of the show that most female fans found both of them "dreamy looking," but Patrick Dempsey had a slight edge over T.R. Knight. Jake knew when a female lost interest and their mind wandered to someone else. This was a perfect example of one of those moments.
Jake said, "I don't mind. Go ahead. See you later at law school."
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Chapter Two, Part Two...coming to this website really soon.