There are dinner parties that turn out way better than expected. You walked in knowing no one—or almost no one—and somewhere between the first glass and the last, something clicked. The conversation flowed, you exchanged numbers with a stranger to make future plans (and meant it!), and you went home later than you should have and felt, inexplicably, like you’d been let in on a secret.
And then there are the dinner parties that don’t live up to their potential. The ones that looked perfect on paper, with the right address, the right names, the right food. And yet, the group never quite got on. The conversation split and stayed split. You checked the time before dessert. You left politely at the scheduled hour. The difference between these two events is, almost always, the host.
