The man has cojones

Saturday evening I had nine people over for a game night. My definition of game night includes a group of good friends, food to nibble, strong drinks, and games to play like Catch Phrase and Turbo Cranium.

There was a knock on the door a few hours into the drinks and games and, living in an apartment complex, I immediately thought it was someone ready to complain about the noise as the walls are thin enough to hear kitchen cabinets closing. Standing before me was the neighbor next door, someone I have said hello to in passing for almost three years.

“Are we being too loud?” I asked in that feeling-guilty voice.

“Actually,” he said, holding up a bottle of wine (a good bottle, too), “I was hoping I could join.”

You can’t say no to someone with the cojones to join a group of strangers he has only heard laughing and chatting through the wall.

Needless to say, he was immediately welcomed in, made friends with everyone, networked with one, and allowed me to refill his wine glass three times.

We're hanging out again soon.