I was working two jobs. One which made me cash at the end of the night with a bunch of people that I liked. One which made me feel like I was doing something good in the world with a bunch of people that I also liked.
One day I was working the job with the cash (waiting tables with people I've known for years and new people that I was interested in making friends), and I was invited to a party much later in the night. I had said maybe. In my mind, I knew that I hate crowded places and I don't like drinking in front of people and I have social anxiety and the party was being thrown for a girl that I didn't particularly enjoy. And this beautiful woman who was throwing the party laughed and said, "If it weren't at my apartment, I'd say maybe too and not go. Don't worry. But I still think you should come."
I was much more intrigued when she said that. I was compelled to prove her wrong. I was compelled to stay at home. I left work and went to the grocery store. I bought ingredients. I used my leftover chocolate. I spent my introverted Sunday afternoon baking brownies. I took a nap on the couch. I woke up, showered, got dressed, and looked like a girl. I sat on the couch. Said I wouldn't go. Garnished the brownies. Said I couldn't eat all the brownies myself. Plated the brownies. Sat on the couch. I hate socializing. I got in the car. I got lost. I said I would just go home. I found where I was supposed to be. I called that beautiful woman. I held my plate with both hands while she received me from the parking lot because I didn't know where to go. The plate was my wall. I would not be interested, intrigued, or invested.
I brought the brownies in. It's an easy ice breaker to get told the brownies are delicious or that they too love peppermint patties.
I had 1:1 conversations. I had lots of laughs. I had a few good beers (with most definitely not enough food in my belly). I found a cat in a bedroom and good conversation with that beautiful woman.
It was the first sign that things were a-changing. And it was a darn good brownie.
Eight months later, I got this note about my brownies...
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