Small Talk as The Plague

We passed by the few mingling bodies outside
And entered the front door
Like foreigners
In unfamiliar surroundings

Apprehensively
I awaited the moment
She would spot familiarity
And become another cow in a herd
Leaving me to fend for myself
I should have stapled our elbows together
The safety would’ve been worth the pain

As if already a member of the cattle
I strolled about the house
Faking confidence with each stride
Pretending to search for
Well…anything
But deep down I knew
This plan could not entirely escape me
From engaging the plague

So I prepared
Observing, calculating, mapping out
Which herd I would infiltrate
Occasionally they would pause
From chewing their cud
And warn me with their eyes
To enter at my own risk

Then Alas!
Behind and to my right
An eavesdrop of undertone
"Well my favorite color is white,”
A gangly, composed lady slowly exhaled her words
I embraced my opportunity
“Off-white,” I almost shouted
Elbowing, digging,
Squeezing my butt into their circle
“My favorite color is off-white.”

Uh oh
The awkward uncertainties of the plague
Began to extract palm sweat
And new-fangled ambiguity
Would my preference for off-white
Bring my relationship with gangly lady closer together
Or farther apart?
Too late
It was underway