The dinner parties were not an act of socialization. They were an architectural intervention. A barricade against the ennui of upper-middle class vacuum. I had to manufacture a crisis of creativity. A simple request to cook a birthday dinner was rejected and the space filled with soliloquies on Japanese religion. I am insufferable. This path is, by every reasonable measure, unnecessary. It has happened repeatedly since.
Each dinner has a theme, a menu written slightly too formally, and slightly too many seats. Some guests are friends. Some are friends of friends. Some simply Venmo'd fast enough. The people very much matter, and also very much do not matter.
If that sounds like a lot of effort for a random weekend night, you are correct, and you are also invited.
Cook, Der Treibauf₄, Clark Griswold