The early part of the evening (things started about five) was couple-free, with the exception of the host (whose significant other was napping and thus not entirely present). A vast legion of four we were, the final hold-outs in a world designed for twos. But I can't bring myself to be suitably bitter, any more.
As it turns out, a thin me is perhaps even less suited to couplehood than the heavy me was - I think the heavy me was more willing to make allowances for other people's personalities and foibles, in return for their sufferance. It wasn't that people didn't like me because I was fat, after all. I could be bitter when the thought went "if people were less shallow about appearances, I'd have more relationships/dates/lovers." While many aspects of how people treat me have changed since my surgery, that's not one of them - I do not have suitors suddenly lined up at my door (so to speak). Leading me to the conclusion it's a personality thing. And I like my personality, so I can't be bitter about that.
So it was pretty damn mellow, with the exceptions of the few times we strayed dangerously close to having to break furniture due to discussions about art. And hey, isn't that how it's supposed to go - once the mainstream discovers something, the cool kids stop doing it and move on to something else? Like I've ever been on the bleeding edge of anything much. Heh.