What I was feeling...

       I had been at Gatsby's extravagant party for a couple hours now. I am starting to feel the alcohol rushing to my head as this is only the second time I have ever gotten drunk. For a while I had no place to go or to stand, so I had to stand alone in the garden where the drinks were so that I would have an occupation.
       Thankfully I at least knew one person at the party, Jordan Baker. I remember sitting at a table with a "rowdy little girl"(47) and a man by which I believed he was around my age. I am not positive whether or not it was the alcohol in my system or not, but I knew I was actually having a great time next door. After the "two finger-bowls of champagne"(47), the man sitting with me had started a conversation. He mentioned that I had looked familiar to him and asked if I was in the Third Division during the war. Given my intoxication, my mind was very puzzled at his observation because it is true that I was in the Third Division, but more specifically the ninth machine-gun battalion. How on earth does the man know that if I have never seen him before?
       With the man's response, it came clear to me about how he had seen me before and that was because he was in the war too. My thinking process is delayed and you and I both know why, obviously. Anyways, we carried on a normal, casual conversation about the war. I had learned that this man owns a hydroplane and he invited me to go on it with him in the morning! The man also called my "old sport" by which I really loved it when he said it. I am really growing on to this man and I do not even know his first name!
       Just as I was about to ask what I should have asked him in the first place, what his name was, Jordan came by and interrupted just as "it was on the tip of my tongue" (47). And because I had not known, I feel so rude for talking to the man about how this was "an unusual party for me" (47) and that "I haven't seen the host" (47). I was not complaining, I am just simply accustomed to getting to know the host before I am inside their house drinking their booze, especially my neighbor's.
        Then, the puzzled confusion the man showed on his face cause puzzlement on my part as if I had made no sense with my words. Just then, the unimaginable happened and the man said, "I'm Gatsby"(48)! Obviously the first word out of my mouth was, "What!"(48), followed by "Oh, I beg your pardon" (48). Of course, this man thinks I must be so incompetent for not knowing who he was! He is my neighbor for Christ's sake. I just had a full conversation with a man while drinking his champagne and sitting in his chairs. I visually slap myself in the face for not putting the puzzle pieces together. What a terrible first impression I just gave to a man who could step on my house. Man I wish I could go back and reintroduce myself since I am going to be seeing a lot more of this man and I hate feeling rude and impolite.