Party Time(Martin Green) Party Time (Approx. 1,750 words)


It was a typical San Francisco party, thought Danny Stein, someone’s apartment, a large one with a view of the Bay, packed wall-to-wall with young people, friends of the host, or was it hostess, friends of those friends, people who’d heard of the party and had just come, no one really cared. It was a BYOB, a lot of drinking on a Friday night after the work week, loud talk, cigarette smoke (it was back in the innocent ‘50’s), a few couples, mostly singles, young people (like himself) who’d followed the dictum and come West. In those days, rents in San Francisco were cheap, jobs were competitive but available, the city was laid back and you could do anything.

Someone jostled Danny and he bumped into the girl behind him, causing her to spill some of her drink. “Sorry,” he said, then saw that she was someone he knew, Ruth Baker, dark-haired, dark-eyed voluptuous Ruth as he thought of her in fanciful moments, now fitted into a black party dress cut low to reveal the tops of creamy white breasts. They were breasts he’d never see because Ruth was married, and married to Howard Baker, a friend, or at least an acquaintance, who worked for Pacific Oil, the largest client of the ad agency where Danny worked.

“Are you okay, Ruth?” Danny asked.

“Yes, I’m fine. Just a few drops spilled.”

“I’m sorry,” he said again. “Where’s Howie?”

“He had to go to some boring meeting in LA. I see some of the gang are here.”

“Yeah.” The gang was a loosely affiliated group of mostly Berkeley graduates and mostly downtown workers he’d fallen in with through a couple of guys he knew from work. “If there’s a party the gang will find it.”

“Are you with anybody?”

“No, by myself. As usual.” She gave him a quick look under her dark lashes. “Many girls wanted me to take them but I fended them off.”

“Of course. How’s the job going?”

“It’s okay. There are rumors that Pacific Oil might be changing agencies. We’re a little nervous.”

“Hmmm. I’ll see if Howie knows anything. How’s your apartment?”

Danny had recently moved into his own apartment from a guest house. It was the first time he’d lived in a place of his own. “Okay. It’s only a studio but big enough for me And it’s convenient. I can walk downtown to the office.”

In New York, he’d lived with his parents in the Bronx and had taken the subway to work every day. This meant standing up and trying to read the morning newspaper while holding onto a strap and being jostled by other bodies as the subway, with a deafening roar, ground its way under the earth. Now he had his own apartment and every morning walked to work, being able to glimpse the Bay before going downhill to Montgomery Street.

“Are you doing any cooking?” she asked him.

“Well, usually I go out to eat.”

Ruth smiled. Whenever she smiled at him, Danny felt it was part maternal and part flirtatious. “I knew it,” she said. “I bet you don’t keep any food in your place at all. You could save a lot of money if you did some cooking for yourself.”

“Yeah, you’re right. Maybe I’ll try it sometime.”

“I’ll have to come over one day and give you a cooking lesson.”

Picturing Ruth Baker in the kitchen of his little apartment almost caused Danny to spill his drink but he caught it just in time. Of course, he knew she was just talking.

Ruth Baker said she had to go to the powder room and left. The party went on. Danny occasionally saw someone he knew, one of the gang, and exchanged a few words. He talked to a few girls but none gave him any encouragement. Without thinking, he’d had several vodka tonics (he’d brought the vodka) and his mind was getting fuzzy. He’d better stop.

He found an empty corner and looked at the party. The voices of all those people jammed into the room sounded like the buzzing of bees. Scents of perfume mingled with smells of spilled whiskey. The thought came to him that he’d probably gone to more parties during his year in San Francisco than in all the rest of his life, and that included weddings and Bar-mitzvahs. Well, he supposed that’s why he’d left New York. There, living with his parents, he was expected to get a job, marry a nice girl (Jewish, of course), then start raising a family. He'd almost done just that, he thought, remembering Marilyn Gold, the girl he’d been going with and who’d cried when he told her he was going to San Francisco. He'd thought he was in love with Marilyn but couldn't imagine being married to her and living in New York. He'd felt he had to break away from everything in New York. Now he was on his own; he was free and could do anything he wanted.

Several guys had passed out, a lamp had been knocked over and was broken, a girl was being sick in the bathroom and the pairing-off ritual had begun, signaling that the party was coming to an end. Some guys and girls would leave together, others would leave alone. It was time to leave himself, although he didn’t look forward to going back to his empty apartment. He’d gotten a letter from his mother that morning saying that his grandmother had fallen and broken her hip and was in the hospital. She gave him the name and address of the hospital and said he should write. She also wrote that his cousin Rudy’s wedding was next month and added that she hoped she’d live to see him get married.

He’d started pushing his way toward the door when Ruth Baker came up to him and asked if he had his car. The girl who’d brought her had found someone and was ready to leave with him. Could he give her a ride home?

“Sure,” said Danny. They went outside. It was dark and the San Francisco fog had already come in so that everything looked blurred. Danny found his car and they started off. He was about to ask Ruth for directions to her place when she said, “Why don’t you stop at your apartment. I’m curious to see it.”

“You’ll have to walk up three flights.”

“Don’t worry, I can make it.”

Danny turned on the light as they came in. He was glad he’d cleaned up a little. He quickly gathered up some newspapers that were lying around as Ruth went into the kitchen. She looked into the refrigerator. “Just as I thought,” she said. “Nothing here.”

“I was going to do a big shopping tomorrow.”

“I’ll bet.” She came back into the other room and glanced around. “It’s not a bad place. It would look a lot better with some pictures on the wall.”

“I was waiting until I got back from Paris.”

She had moved closer to him. Her big dark eyes glistened. Danny wondered how much she’d had to drink. Now she put her hand on his face. “You do need someone to look after you, don’t you?” She leaned still closer and kissed him. In the car, Danny had wondered if Ruth had anything more in mind than wanting to appraise his apartment but he’d told himself not to be a fool. Well, you never knew.

They sat on the sofa-bed, still kissing. Incongruously, Danny found himself thinking of Howard Baker. He didn’t know Howie very well but he seemed to be a nice guy. Suddenly Ruth stood up and stepped out of her dress, then slipped off her bra. Danny stared at the white rounded breasts he’d only imagined and never thought to see. She put her arms around him and smiled her half maternal, half flirtatious smile. “Come on,” she said. Afterward, she smoked a cigarette. Danny found a plate to use as an ashtray. She went into the bathroom and came out dressed. She wanted Danny to take her home.

When Danny returned to his place his thoughts were in a turmoil. They hadn’t talked much on the ride to Ruth’s place. He hadn’t known what to say. He didn’t know what she expected of him. At her door she gave him a long, lingering kiss and then quickly went inside. As he drove back, he thought it was lucky there was so little traffic in the fog.

He sat for a long time, trying to sort things out. It wouldn’t happen again, he thought. It must have been the party, all that drinking, all that pairing off, the feeling of sexual desire in the air so strong you could smell it. At the same time he wondered when Howie would be back and how often he went to out-of-town meetings.

Finally he went to bed. He couldn’t get to sleep for a long time and when he did he had a series of confusing dreams. When he woke up he remembered only the last one. He was in New York. He’d gone downtown to Times Square. Across the street he saw a slender brown-haired girl. It was Marilyn Gold, the girl he’d left in New York. Then he remembered, he was meeting her to see a movie. She lived in Brooklyn and was meeting him downtown so he wouldn’t have to ride the subway all the way out there. He started across the street to her but a crowd of people got in his way and he lost sight of her. Then he was awake.

He looked at his bedside clock. It was 10 AM. He got up, did his business in the bathroom, then went into the kitchen and drank some orange juice. He looked out the window. It was gray and overcast, the kind of day when the weathermen said the sun might burn through the fog in the afternoon and were usually wrong. He should clean up his apartment and then he’d write a letter to his grandmother. Maybe he’d type up a new resume.

The phone rang. It was Ruth. “Good morning,” she said. “How are you?”

“Okay. How are you?”

“I’m feeling fine. A few of the gang are going to the BV for breakfast. Will I see you there?”

He hesitated, then said, “Yeah, sure. I’ll be there."

“Good.” She hung up.

Danny took a long shower, then shaved and dressed. He wondered who else would be at the BV and where they'd go from there.

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