how i became the most important person in the world

jenifer was this beautiful twenty-something woman working her way through school as a bartender in the hotel lobby bar at the omni. she had this young, audrey hepburn frame and deep-set eyes that spoke of many late evenings fending off intoxicated thirty-something conference goers.

she mixed drinks like a chemical engineer, each ingredient measured out precisely in a jigger and then added to the glass. "how long have you been bartending?" i ask. "about a year," she says. but i find that hard to believe. she seems so unsure of what she is doing. i order a caucasian. she looks at me with this slight grin on her face, thinking i'm tricking her. "it's a white russian, you'll probably me making alot of them tonight." ice. half ounce jigger of khalua, half ounce jigger of vodka, top with half and half. she actually didn't measure the cream. i thought that was quite bold.

i spent some time talking with julie about self-censorship on personal content sites. relating the issues of the past couple of months with my site as well as some of those of my friends. julie and i really connected. we understood each other. too bad i wasn't her type.

jenifer was my type though. at least that's what i kept trying to convince myself. with each caucasian, i became more sure that i could convince her of this as well. i had already started to convince those around me. michael was my biggest supporter, but then i believe he may have already had more drinks than me. julie was onboard with the idea of jenifer being right for me, but i think that she was just being nice.

as the effects of last call began to wear off, i let the doubts of self-worth slowly overtake me. i no longer felt my connection with jenifer. i no longer felt connected to anyone in the room. at 3:00 a.m., the lobby bar began to quickly clear out. people teamed up for cabs, grouped to consolidate elevator trips, and gathered together for rides in someone's car. trying to get a ride with a friend who was staying a block from me, i was told that the car was full. i realized that i would be walking. i wasn't too concerned. it was maybe two miles at most. and it was a nice night.

but i couldn't help but concentrate on how i would be alone. alone again, i thought. i've not truly made any friends here. i am alone. the self pity welled up inside until i was full of anger. i stewed about it for nearly four blocks.

then, as i neared the top of the hill on eighth street, just past hickory street, i was paralyzed for a moment. in the sky between the buildings appeared a large ball of fire moving left to right. relative to my eye, it crossed the gap a couple of inches per second. behind it was left a tracer of bright orange fire and smoke. i began to run, to get beyond the obstructions of architecture at the top of the hill. stopping at a clearing, i watched the fireball race across the early morning sky towards the northeastern horizon. i watched the orange glowing trail fade to grey. i thought that i must be the only person seeing this beautiful spectacle.

as the first few tears began to fall, i realized how wonderful it was to be alone right now. i felt at once, both the insignificance of who i was to the world moving around me, and how important i was as an individual that could make a difference in the world around me. i continued my walk home, tears falling down my cheek, with all of my senses heightened and enlightened. i was, for at least the next thirty minutes, the most important person in the world. it may not have worked out for jenifer and me, but that's o.k.

she probably hasn't seen the space shuttle re-enter the earth's atmosphere twice in her life. i have.