The Life of the PartyCobb, Irvin S. (Irvin Shrewsbury)
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The Life of the Party
Cobb, Irvin S. (Irvin Shrewsbury)
Costume -- Fiction; Humorous stories; Lawyers -- Fiction; New York (N.Y.) -- Fiction
Nearly all of us at some time or other in our lives have dreamed awful
dreams of being discovered in a public place with nothing at all upon
our bodies, and have awakened, burning hot with the shame of an enormous
and terrific embarrassment. Being no student of the psychic phenomena of
human slumber I do not know whether this is a subconscious
harking-back to the days of our infancy or whether it is merely a
manifestation to prove the inadvisability of partaking of Welsh rabbits
and lobster salads immediately before retiring. More than once Mr. Leary
had bedreamed thus, but at this moment he realised how much more dread
and distressing may be a dire actuality than a vision conjured up out of
the mysteries of sleep.
One surprised by strangers in a nude or partially nude state may have
any one of a dozen acceptable excuses for being so circumstanced. An
earthquake may have caught one unawares, say; or inopportunely a
bathroom door may have blown open. Once the first shock occasioned by
the untoward appearance of the victim has passed away he is sure of
sympathy. For him pity is promptly engendered and volunteer aid is
enlisted.
But Mr. Leary had a profound conviction that, revealed in this ghastly
plight before the eyes of his fellows, his case would be regarded
differently; that instead of commiseration there would be for him only
the derision which is so humiliating to a sensitive nature. He felt so
undignified, so glaringly conspicuous, so--well, so scandalously
immature. If only it had been an orthodox costume party which Mrs.
Carroway had given, why, then he might have gone as a Roman senator or
as a private chief or an Indian brave or a cavalier. In doublet or jack
boots or war bonnet, in a toga, even, he might have mastered the dilemma
and carried off a dubious situation. But to be adrift in an alien
quarter of a great and heartless city round four o'clock in the morning,
so picturesquely and so unseasonably garbed, and in imminent peril of
detection, was a prospect calculated to fill one with the frenzied
delirium of a nightmare made real. Put yourself in his place, I ask you.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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