The Digest: No one’s coming to the party

I can’t get over a blinking paranoia that I am yapping the cartilage off innocent, well-meaning ears.

It started this summer under an outdoor tent for a college graduation party. The weather was clear, and the bartender served purple martinis named after the high school mascot of the graduates: a Crusader Cosmo. (Note: liquors that turn cocktails purple warrant your immediate skepticism, lest you want to vomit in the grass next to your aunt’s white jeans.)

This family friend comes from a family of...