"Really, man? This is the third/fourth/seventh time in a row you've said no. You missed the premiere viewing of Forgewright III, you passed on the grand opening of the Crucible paintball range, and three parties have gone by and you skipped out on every single one. You know you're never going to get laid if you don't at least meet some girls, right? Oh wait, yeah, forgot that you reproduce by spores or something like that. I'm not one for shadow-figure, hermit, wizard-thing biology, but I do know people, and I know that you need to meet some, Ben. Fine then, let me put this in a way that you'll really get what I'm telling you here: You're going to go with me to this club tonight, or I am going to punch you in the dick. No wearing that dumpy-ass hooded jacket either. Now come on."

I have been wondering if perhaps hearing Jeremy say that to me over and over today has been a recording, but since I can instead hear his voice cracking when he tries to do anything other than lyrical speaking over a drum and bass track, I know it is just a very well-engraved memory stuck in my head now.

Tonight I have been left with the conundrum as to what I shall wear tomorrow: My green suit with the silver lining? My cleaned military fatigues? Perhaps my completely embarrassing sweater that displays both my common decency and how pasty and unappealing I look in pastel pinks? Part of me has considered going nude to fit in a bit better, but I disregarded that thought as stupid knowing well enough that wandering around butt-naked would just invite more stares and questions about my shape. I also am not sure if these creatures would understand the direct relationship between temperature and virility. This overall is stupid, uncharacteristically stupid for me to have to even consider, but the times are calling for uncharacteristic actions from me.

Much to my own surprise, I must inform that I am attending a social tomorrow.

Such an occurrence is alien to me, be it here in Equestria or back home in Keycrescents. Parties, gatherings, even so much as lunches or dinners with associates are something that I have always been quick to dismiss and forego for many reasons. They are expensive; they are tiring; they are loud, uncomfortable, magnets for disaster, embarrassing, and a seemingly endless amount of negative adjectives I can append to this list to make them appear the be the most ghastly occurrence in civilized living. I understand that nobody will agree with me on that concept, and even I am quick to disagree with it as well, but I have always had a bit of a complex that tempts me endlessly to avoid any kind of social gathering. I am never quite sure if I am just fearful of the worst possible scenario happening and me ending up locked away in a holding cell next to a burly individual named after a sports drink, or if perhaps I just always believe I have something better to do than to spend time with others exclusively. I simply know that the idea of being in a room with more than one or two individuals who want my attention discomforts me on a strange level. I had tried my best to avoid going to this one as well, but I finally found myself unable to turn away the request when faced with some rather unsettling realizations.

It began this morning on my mailing route. One of my deliveries was to a name I recognized rather easily: Addressed to a "Pinkie Pie". I decided to make the delivery the last on my route as I had the feeling a meeting with her would wear me out, and to no surprise to myself, I was right. I have had the utmost pleasure of avoiding most contact with Ms. Pie, aside from the daily cringe I give as I hear her squeaky voice shout out a yippish "Ben!" over the crowds to get my attention and solicit a single wave from me before I go about my day (and thank whatever powers that be for letting me avoid yet another run-in with her). I cannot say that I dislike her, but she's just exhausting. Like a man staring at the reaper's scythe, I felt my insides turn involuntarily, as I stared at the doorbell that I knew would inevitably call the blush bother straight to the door and force another unwelcome flinch at the shrill sound of her excitement. I could just turn away now, I considered, but the weight of the package rejected my faint wish to avoid this meeting. One press of the doorbell, and I was instead questioning to myself what exactly this creature found so exciting about me: Was it me, or is she really this ecstatic about everyone she meets? Does she suffer from a heart condition of some kind?

My musings were cut short as I nearly lifted out of my socks at the sound of a piercing call of my name that yanked me out of my thoughts like cement shoes. The curly-maned, pink creature beamed with unbridled enthusiasm as she stared straight at my face, and I could see her hooves lifting and lowering as she could barely contain herself long enough to await me saying anything. (She failed in that waiting, actually.) "I'm so glad you're here! It's really good to see you again, Ben. I had something I wanted to ask you about really, really badly! You got a minute?"

"Afraid not," I informed her as I held out the package abruptly, "I have a lot on my schedule today. I need to visit Fluttershy's house to see if I can find out why her clock stopped again, and I'm expected at Sweet Apple Acres this evening. I'm just here to make a delivery."

It was perplexing to watch her take the package in her grasp and then immediately hold it back out to me with a toothy grin. "Well, aren't you gonna take it?"

"Why would I? It's your package. I'm not allowed to tamper with the mail."

"It's not mail anymore, silly! It's already been delivered! Now I'm giving it to who I got it for. Go ahead! Open it up!" I could swear that I heard her voice continue to get higher as she spoke, and I began to wonder if there was some sort of gas pressure building up in her causing her to squeak like that. (Is she some sort of archaic steam-driven automaton?)

"I don't have time for this," I grunted as I went to walk away, but once I was down the set of 3 steps and back at the road, I was looking at the same pink-haired pony holding the package out to me with the same expectant grin. I turned to glance and make sure I was not looking at a clone or a twin, but the doorway was now empty. "Just how long are you expecting to keep this up?" I asked hesitantly.

"I don't know. How long are you going to take to accept the package?" she quipped back curiously.

I just muttered a "whatever" as I grabbed at the parcel and hurried to slip my finger beneath a fold on the brown paper and rip it off. The box within was barely larger than the boxes that necklaces and other jewelry are kept in for sale, and quickly flipping it open, I saw just a piece of brightly colored paper with a small drawing of balloons on it within. "Oh, a drawing. I don't have a fridge to post it up on, but this is nice," I placated, moving to step past her but nearly tripping as she held fast before me. I was told to read it and stop being a Hasty Harry (Brisk Benjy in my case). It was an invitation for some kind of gathering tomorrow night.

"So you gonna come? I've wanted to get a chance to see you, and what better time than when I'd be seeing some of my other friends as well?"

"I'm afraid I'm going to be busy tomorrow night," I refused.

"With what?" she asked with her head cocked.

Anything really: Heading to Sweet Apple Acres, wandering the streets, reviewing what I can still access on my MIRRDs in my backpack, planning a course of action for when I get home, writing in my journal, practicing my singing, pretending I'm a pirate captaining a make-believe dingy by standing in an empty bathtub, drinking antifreeze, jumping off a bridge... I could fill this entire journal just with ideas as to what I could be doing aside from going to this gathering.

I left Pinkie while she was busy watching me with a puzzled look. I could practically see the wheels turning in her expression, and it terrified me to consider where exactly those wheels would end up taking her. One quick stop by the post office to drop off the dolly I use to cart my packages around, and I was off to Fluttershy’s house to investigate the mystery of her grandfather clock. She had mentioned to Rarity recently that it was running a bit slow, which explained why she was late to a meeting of theirs (I believe they went to a spa?), and once the word got back to me, I knew I was obligated to go have a look and see if I could deduce what the matter with it was. The matter is, of course, that I bashed the crap out of it and it got banged up against the floor, but perhaps I could find more of a technical explanation.

I will admit to feeling a bit awkward when the yellow pegasus actually smiled as she opened the door to view me. I am not sure what I had expected, but for some reason the pleasing little smile unsettled me and caused me to tighten up and politely attempt to get straight to work on fixing her clock. I doubt it did any real good since I only have a limited understanding of clockwork. It seems this is a very antique clock, and though I know that modern clocks use the resonant frequency of quartz to tell time, this one is operated via a spring and tooth combination. All I could think to do was loosen a ring so that it spun a bit faster (to try and keep up with second intervals) and wind the coil within to make sure it was properly powered. I can hope that fixes it.

Somewhere in my tinkering, I was interrupted shortly by the sound of a glass being placed on the floor next to me. It was full of ice and some kind of sweet drink. My gracious hostess had thought that perhaps I could use some refreshment while I pondered the workings of outdated clockwork. I paused long enough to take a draft, but kept myself engrossed in the work as much as I could. “Uhm, I had wanted to ask you something, Benjamen. What are you doing tomorrow night?”

“Either embarking on an enterprise of piracy or jumping off a bridge, or possibly just a light dinner followed by restless sleep.” I received a prolonged silence after my abrupt answer, leaving me to wonder if perhaps I had upset her.

“Well, I was just wondering if maybe you were going to join us?”

“I had not planned to.”

“Okay, I won’t press then. Sorry.”

That was it. Even I felt a little cheated with how anticlimactic that conversation was, but such cannot always be helped. Patting my hands off after closing the clock and thanking her for her time, I set off next for the boutique to change clothes before showing up at Sweet Apple Acres.

Rarity had caught me on the way in and asked me to come speak with her in the kitchen. As I had anticipated, she actually wanted me to quickly core a bell pepper for her, which did not take long. However, that does not mean it was easy. “Benjamen, I was wondering what we should bring with us tomorrow? I’m sure Pinkie has the desserts covered, but it wouldn’t hurt to bring everypony something more substantial to eat. You will be joining us tomorrow, won’t you?”

“I don’t feel I have a reason to, no.”

I cringed a moment as I saw her knife hit the cutting board in shock, her brow turning down as she looked stunned by what I had just told her. I must have offended her in some way, but with a quick shake of her head and a clearing of her throat she recovered. “If you need a reason, maybe you would like to be my escort there tomorrow?”

I told her I would think on it, but thinking on it meant that the whole time I was dicing up the pepper hurriedly, at the risk of my fingers, I just kept considering how nice she smelled today. That is what cemented an answer of 'no' to her offer of me escorting her tomorrow.

Sweet Apple Acres was certainly a treat, as well, once I arrived in my military fatigues ready to get them dirty for some additional cash, only to find that Applejack had already done the fieldwork today and had nothing for me to do. “Well, why don’cha come on inside? We can get ya a snack,” Applejack had offered, but I refused her quickly with the statement that I was expected elsewhere tonight (a lie, but I had endured quite enough 'speaking' for today and wanted to avoid a specific question). A question that came up anyway moments later. “Well, that’s alright. We can catch up tomorrow night. Wouldn’t mind a chance to just shoot the breeze with ya for a while.”

“You seem to assume we’ll be at the same place tomorrow,” I remarked with a snide tone.

“I just had the impression from Pinkie you was goin' to be joinin' us tomorrow night for a while,” she responded with a furrow in her brow showing distaste to my tone of voice.

“You’re very impressionable then. I will be occupied tomorrow evening. Don’t expect to see me.”

Applejack grunted under her breath then as she scrutinized me unhappily, before reaching up to adjust her hat, and turned to head back to the farmhouse without me. “Fine, don’t be showin' up here tomorrow lookin’ for work then. I’m goin' to be busy off visitin' my friends.”

I strolled a bit more slowly back towards Ponyville, as I was left to consider exactly how many bridges I was burning for myself with my insistent refusal to join these ponies on whatever ceremonial gathering they were having. Was everyone in town supposedly invited, or was I just lucky enough to be associating myself with a specific group of close-knit individuals? Considering that I met all of these ponies from each other, it is most likely the latter. I would have fewer problems with socializing if I knew anyone that I voluntarily sought out instead of just those who happened across me and asked their friend what I was.

“Hey, flatfoot.” I glanced up at the remark, seeing a familiar cyan horse treading in the air above me with legs folded and a stern glance. “You need to look up more often. I’ve been here for five minutes already.”

“Where I’m from, most folks are screaming for help if they spend five minutes hanging above you. Forgive me for excluding flying equines from my list of daily obstacles.”

“Yeah, well, I had something to talk to you about. Why do you have to do this to me, Ben? Why do you make it so that every time I get to see you, I’ve got to be the hammer?" Rainbow gave a short sigh to me along with a shake of her head. "Here I was thinking maybe we'd finally get a chance to meet on good terms tomorrow night. Did we do something to tick you off or something? Why exactly are you blowing everypony off?"

"Why is everyone so insistent that I be a part of this meeting? I doubt the lack of my presence will ruin the evening for you all. If anything it will enhance it," I informed her as I continued walking.

Dash landed quickly and strolled at my side to keep pace, refusing to let me be. "You obviously don't know Pinkie very well. This is the second time in a row you've shoved her invitation back in her face, y'know. She's going to get the impression that you don't like her if you keep it up."

"What a tragedy," I mocked back, as I felt my forehead wrinkle in irritation that I was being lectured at by a variegated steed. My steps were paused as she whipped about in front of me and stared me down. "If she gets her feelings hurt, that's just the price of her overextending her camaraderie."

"That's a really jerk thing to say. She's just trying to get to know you and help you out! What's it going to hurt you to just show up and be nice for a while?" Rainbow glowered in my direction now, passion alight in the pink hues of her eyes.

"I could ask you the same: What will it hurt all of you to just let me be? Unlike the rest of you, I understand the meaning of "expeditious action". I have things I was meaning to complete before I got whisked away here, and unsurprisingly, parading around with pastel-pigmented ponies was not one of them! Just leave me alone already," I snapped as I shoved my way past her, feeling my fists tense in inexplicable anger. She let me be, as I had asked, and I then had the chance to return to my introspective thoughts. I began to question if perhaps I suffer from a phobia: Irrational fear and anger towards a normally non-threatening stimulus. It was something to consider as I trudged to my final destination for the evening.

As much as I would have liked to just head back to the boutique, lock myself away in the guest room until the end of tomorrow, and let this entire silliness blow over, I had indeed made a prior engagement for myself. I needed to return to Twilight's library and learn what she was able to deduce from the ancient booklet I had handed over to her when last we met.

Twilight was very quick to usher me in the door now, sitting me down once again, and retrieving the booklet to finally give me her grand realization about the text:

It was old.

I was dumbfounded (and felt a migraine coming on from just how incensed I was) that this was such an accomplishment in her perception. No data as to what the words might mean, no ideas as to how I might get home: Just nothing useful to me. She went on to explain that when she said old, she was talking about nearly a millennium if not more, and stated that there was some sort of magical property that had kept the binding from just rotting away after all that time. So it's magical and old. I could barely contain my enthusiasm at her groundbreaking discoveries.

Shifting topics, she did finally laugh at my conflict of words with Zecora after she accepted my apology for embarrassing her that evening. "It's alright, Benjamen. You still just need some time to adjust. If a few things get messy, or there is a misunderstanding here or there, you'll be forgiven."

"Hopefully I will not need to do too much adjusting," I admitted thoughtlessly.

Twilight took a moment to consider my statement, looking back at me with mild concern. "Do you not like it here, Benjamen? Is something wrong?"

"No," I began cautiously, "It's just that I still have to get back and find my father. I was on a mission before I got here, and I can't finish it while I'm stuck in this place." As she continued to watch me silently, I felt compelled to continue defending myself. "It's just that if I'm going home, then I won't really need to do any adjusting. Once I'm back, I doubt that I will need the adjustment, because I won't be coming back here."

"Is that why you have been so detached from everypony?"

"Detached? I'm afraid I don't know what you mean."

"You haven't really been trying to make any friends, Benjamen. All I've really seen you do is work and try to find a way home since you've been here. I heard that you won't even be attending our game night tomorrow."

"Of course I've been busy. I need some capital to survive on if the worst is to happen and I remain stuck here." – 'stuck'. That word brought Twilight's ears down into a fold.

"Does that mean you won't need friends if you can't make it home?" The only response I could give was to ask her what I was doing that was so unfriendly. "Everything I've heard about you doing. I think you only do it to pay off some sort of debt or to further your own goals. You help Rarity because you owe her for the room, you help Applejack just to make some money, and the crusaders have to practically beg you to join them."

"So you're saying that I'm not being friendly because I'm doing things for everyone for reasons other than sheer generosity? Am I to do everything for everyone for nothing?"

"I only have these for examples because all you've done is work and write in that notebook, Benjamen! In fact, I would believe you have written far more words in there than you've spoken to anypony here in Ponyville." She was not angry with me when she spoke, but more concerned. Honestly, I wish she had been angry with me because I would have had an easier time dismissing her words. Especially when she asked me, "Is that notebook the only thing you would want to call a friend?"

"Why do you care?" I was compelled to ask her, “I'm just some freak that fell from the sky for all you know. Do you all just feel sorry for me? I can take care of myself well enough without the pity, thank you."

There was a hush after I had barked those words at her, while she stepped closer to me with sorrow in her eyes. I was expecting her to shout at me for being ungrateful; to raise her voice back towards me and tell me to get out if I did not want her help. I am unaccustomed to what happened though, as she approached with genuine care. "What kind of place are you from, Benjamen? What kind of place can make you so hardened that you can't even accept somepony's kindness without believing that they are waiting to be repaid? Or that maybe somepony just wishes to be your friend for the sake of sharing a little happiness with you?"

I remained silent under her stare afterwards, forced to consider Twilight's words carefully. I recollected everything I have done since I got here, and regretfully found that she was correct. The only act I have done that was not out of obligation or ambition was to keep Sugarlump from losing her job, but even then it was just pity that brought me to act. I could defend myself by claiming it is simply because I am too different from these creatures to associate with them. Even after reading it just now, however, it looks like a terrible thing to state. It looks as though I must consider myself some kind of superior being. I could say that this is just how things are back on Terriel, but does familiarity automatically mean it is correct? "I'm afraid I don't know what you creatures would expect from me to be your friend."

I watched the edges of her mouth turn up gently to smile at me as one of her hooves rested on my shoulder. "I used to have a problem much like yours, Benjamen," she began as she hesitantly brought her face closer to make a quick pass of her cheek over mine. The gesture was tense and uncomfortable for her, but I could feel the sentiment behind it. "I didn't understand what friendship was for either. My studies and my duties to the Princess were far more important to me than anypony else was. That's why I'm here though: I'm learning why it's important and what it really is." I was spellbound by the time she asked me, "Do you think you could trust me if I told you what everypony would expect of you?"

"I trust you, Twilight."

"All anypony would want from you is just for you to be able to relax around them, to share with them and let them share with you, and most importantly to just be happy."

I lowered my head. She made it sound so simple and so pure. She was able to make friendship sound like an ideal concept that is found only in children’s' stories back home. Popularity, money, comedy, and sex were the currency used back home to purchase friendship with, but she just informed me that none of that was true here. "What about finding my dad?"

"That has nothing to do with this, Benjamen," she chuckled softly at me, finding my concern humorous in some way. "You can make friends and try to find your dad too. Just because you are able to enjoy your stay somewhere and make the best of a situation, doesn't mean you've given up on him or your quest. I'll still help you to get back home, I promise. Maybe instead of having a single story of your hardships, however, you can make some new stories that you'll remember fondly here while we try to find you a way back?"

I'm now friends with a talking, purple, magic horse, and I'm okay with this right now.

That is when I went back to Pinkie that evening and informed her that I would be joining her and the others tomorrow night for whatever they have planned. She looked like she might burst with joy when I told her this, and she let me know she'd be happy to save me a seat now that my prior obligations had been settled. I still don't know how I'm possibly going to fit in, or how I will even survive the socialization, but I said that I would trust her – no, I do trust Twilight – not will. I just hope that trust is enough to secure me through it all.