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Friday Night

Last night I went to a going away party for my fake Uncle Amit. He has been on the Executive Board of Directors for SAYA! (www.saya.org) for a good six years. His contributions to the Board are mixed. As an investment banker, he has access to a pool of wealthy folk. As a Kashmiri-Indian of sorts, he has shared some of his thoughts on riba, alcohol, outsourcing, religion over the years. He is a character to be sure. But neither his contributions nor his ideas are arguably good...

We celebrated him at Opia, on 57th and Lex. But by celebrated, I really mean individuals drank until they were more sociable. I was fascinated by my male colleagues who lucidly explained why they were flirting with the unattractive, and visiably old bartender. They were successful men, a mix of businessmen and lawyers who needed to be holding glasses of alcohol in order to hold conversation. My theory about alcohol as a social lubriant was confirmed and even openly discussed by fellow open-bar mates. When men noticed that I didn't have a glass in my hand, they were quick to offer to buy me my virgin shirley temples and sodas. I drank a lot of nonalcoholic liquid.

What is interesting is really how senseless this sort of socializing is.

On the drive back to Queens, Annetta praised me as a natural flirt. I'd rather think of myself as a good conversationalist, but she insisted that this was a gift. She said that her ability to flirt has been the reason she's gotten as far as she has. This is questionable because she is extremely talented in her own right. She says flirting only enhances what women have. Flirting has nothing to do with sexuality. It is one's natural ability to hold conversation with strangers. I'd like to think of it as charisma.

While it is true that I held conversations with probably every man in the group without fail [except Mani] (topics ranging from federal drug laws on cocaine and crystal-meth versus weed, interstate commerce, education as a career, law schools and financial aid, books and authors, Muslim identity, the merits of smoking versus drinking (or visa versa), rims, Micheal Vicks, private side of markets and equities, flirting, Amit's broken promise to pay for my college education, etc), there were certainly some men that I preferred to others. When the guys became distracted by the bartender, I consented to drinking my virgin mojito and simply observing.

What I found most troubling was my talking to one 28-year-old, not unattractive hedgefund British-Indian named Donn. I was on the topic of his Arabic first name (Raahim) when he admitted he had a Muslim upbringing. He said that he could recite surah Fatiha but in recent years, had picked up drinking (and apparently picking up women), and had ceased to observe fasting during Ramadhan. In fact, he probably had a coke and rum (rum in coke?) as he talked to me. What bothered me most was that he declared he would be my older brother, a bhaijan figure, yet there he was hitting ont the bartender-lady.

These were men in their late 20s, early 30s--yet they behaved just as college guys would, I imagine. Boys don't change. Amit offered me his drinks, his cigarettes as a typical uncle would not. But I remembered the word integrity at these moments. I don't believe in altering my behaviors to accomodate others. This is probably why my friends leave me.

I did collect some business cards.

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