*Nick's Perspective*
I believe that on the first night I went to Gatsby's house I was one of the few guests who had actually been invited. People were not invited - they just went there. They got into automobiles which bore them out to Long Island, and somehow they ended up at Gatsby's door. Once there, they were introduced by someone who knew Gatsby, and after that they conducted themselves according to the rules associated with amusement parks. Sometimes they came and went without having met Gatsby at all. They came for the party with a simplicity of heart that was its own ticket of admission. I had actually been invited. A chauffeur in a uniform of robin's egg blue crossed my lawn early that Saturday morning with a surprisingly formal note from his employer. "The honor would be completely mine if you would attend my intimate party tonight" signed Jay Gatsby. I had noticed him watching me from his window several times before and assumed he had intentions of meeting me but a peculiar combination of circumstances prevented it. I had no real idea of who or what Gatsby was but his mystery was alluring to me so I decided I would attend. I dressed in the finest attire I owned and head over to Gatsby's mansion where I would soon lay eyes on the most beautiful man in the world.
To Be Continued
