What is bravery? According to Merriam-Webster, bravery is having or showing courage. For some, bravery is as simple as speaking up in a group while for others bravery entails far greater feats such as skiing back country during a blizzard. Whatever bravery means to you it is something that should be exercised as often as comfortably possible. For me, bravery entails doing or trying something that makes me somewhat to considerably uncomfortable. My most recent brush with bravery occurred this past Saturday evening.
Several weeks ago my friend Jonathan sent me a link to a magazine called Fellow. Browsing their site I noticed that this new Denver publication focused on several of my hobbies (local food, beer, crafts and photography). While continuing to browse I noticed that they were having a launch event that included free food, brew and music. Elated, I quickly bought a $20 ticket. Normally, I would have bought two tickets but for some unknown reason I only bought one.
Fast forward to the day of the event. It is mid-afternoon when suddenly it hits me, I am going to an event alone where I won't know a single person. Panic sinks in. Frantically I attempt to buy another ticket. No luck, there is a wait-list. Next, I weigh my options. I can either a) forgo the event and eat the $20 ticket or b) suck it up and go. Both options are not ideal, but in the end my frugality wins. "Worse comes to worse I can always eat/drink and then bail" I think as I pull on my $9.00 goodwill dress and cowboy boots. While waiting for my cab I feel my heart rate increasing moment by moment and quickly administer some liquid courage to ease the creep of anxiety. As I swallow the last of my glass of bourbon my phone erupts, my ride is here.
A short cab ride later I arrive at, Greenspaces, the venue for the launch party nestled in one of Denver's burgeoning neighborhoods. Stepping out of the cab my driver yells after me "Everything is going to be just fine!' Even with that last feeble confidence boost I find myself wringing my hands and fidgeting as I approach the door. As I approach the door swings open and out pours several fashionably dressed women giggling among themselves. "Shit", I think, "I am not dressed appropriately." Kicking the snow from my boots I step inside. The room is a warm spacious historical warehouse space with exposed filament bulbs and pine bows hanging from the ceiling. From behind a check-in table a posh women demands my ticket without looking directly at me. Fumbling I hand her my ticket. "Great" she replies, handing me two drink tickets. Drink tickets in hand I take a deep breath and force myself into the horde of people milling about the room.
Smiling as pleasantly as possible, in an attempt mask my growing sense of social nakedness, I make my way towards the bar. Pushing my way through the crowd I take note of optimum spaces for social haven. Wall space near the food, a vacant area behind a group of tables, a corner near the entrance all offer some level of social protection. Reaching the bar, I quickly extend one of my drink tickets to the manicured man in skinny jeans and flannel behind the counter. Rolling his eyes he replies "What do you want?" Thrown off by his terse unfeeling response I sheepishly point to the beer with a picture of a camera on it. He thrusts an unopened beer in my direction; I grab it eager to retreat to one of my identified social safe havens.
Unfortunately, in the time it took me to acquire my beverage most of the spots I had identified previously have now been occupied. Clutching my beer to my chest, like a small child clutches a safety blanket, I set up shop near the buffet table. For a while I stand there blankly staring into space while periodically taking gulps of my rapidly disappearing beverage. All of a sudden a small Asian woman in horn rimmed glasses appears next to me and proclaims loudly into my ear "I like your dress". Somewhat shocked all I can muster in reply is "9.00 dollars, goodwill." As asinine as this response would have been in any other setting for this particular moment it is apparently a secret password. "Really?!" exclaims the small hip Asian woman. "Yes" I say. She nods in approval and turns to leave. Recognizing that this is my first contact I quickly proclaim that I am here by-myself and don't know anyone. Turning, she smiles and says "Wow you are brave. Let me introduce you to a few people." "This is it, I'm in" I think to myself. What follows is a parade of trendy strangers all asking me a standard set of questions. I answer each of them dutifully and nod along in agreement as they pontificate on hipster life in Denver. After about two hours of an endless slue of question and answer sessions I have learned much about what it takes to be "hip". Apparently in order to be hip you must not care while simultaneously caring about a lot of things. You mustn't have a real job because real jobs are for stiffs. And most important of all hold tightly to the belief that everyone outside of your immediate surroundings is infinitely less cool than you are.
As the evening drew to a close the crowds thinned out and I found myself talking to the husband of on of the founders.
"Are you a photographer?" he inquires. "It's a hobby but not really" I reply.
"Are you a writer?" he asks. "Sometimes I write but not professionally" I offer.
"Are you in a band?" he asks as a look of confusion creeps across his face. "No" I reply smiling.
"Then what are you doing here?" he proclaims with a certain air of disbelief.
Gently I explain my love for all of the things he mentioned as well as how I had heard about the magazine. He nods along appropriately before replying "Well, welcome. It is brave of you to come here by yourself. Everyone else knows someone." Grinning from ear to ear I say "I'm not brave. Just curious."
Stepping out into the falling snow I feel a sense of accomplishment. Despite my anxiety I followed my curiosity into an socially uncomfortable situation and discovered that there was nothing to fear. Some may view it as an act of bravery but, for me, it was just another adventure.