“So! It’s nice to meet you all.” I’m standing in a birthday party surrounded by a pack of Manhattan women, trying to hide the fact that I’m terrible in these situations. The host is one of Boyfriend’s friends , and we know almost no one.

Vowing to infiltrate a tight group of women in one corner, I march up and murmur a shy hello. The shortest of the pack, a petite brunette with an overbite, leans towards me. “Nice o meet you! How do you know Host?”

“He’s friends with my boyfriend, they’ve known each other a long time,” I reply, gesturing with my drink and trying not to splash vodka on my arm.

“Oh. My fiance is Host’s friend from college.” We nod in unison.

I dive for something, anything to say. “That’ a beautiful necklace. I couldn’t help noticing it.”

She grins, delighted, and I exhale in relief. I’ve successfully followed the cardinal rule of female herd interaction: Diffuse awkward silences by complimenting the shoes, bag or jewelry of a fellow pack member.

“Thanks. My fiance bought it for me for Valentine’s Day,” she crows.

“Well he has excellent taste,” I flatter.

“Oh, so that’s the necklace Rick bought you!” the taller brunette on the right interjects, her upturned shoulder subtly pushing me out of the circle. “I love it! I’m wearing the bracelet Dan bought me tonight. How funny!” She holds her wrist aloft and we admire accordingly.

“Chad and I decided not to give gifts this year. Instead we went to Antigua for the weekend,” says a muscular blonde on my right with dark eyes and darker eyebrows. With the help of good lighting and two martinis, I’m mesmerized by the massive diamond adorning her left hand. Every spec of light from the room is trapped and writhing inside it.

The corners of her mouth rise as she notices me staring. She glances at my bare hand and the smile widens with delicious superiority. I scan the room for Boyfriend, looking for a safety zone. He’s off talking to a group of back-slapping men in the opposite corner.

“And that’s your boyfriend over there?” the blonde asks. I realize every eye in the circle is staring at me now.

“Uh, yes, that’s him.”

“How long have you two been dating?” Translation: Will I be at more of these gatherings in the future? Or am I a late-winter fling?

“A couple years now actually. We moved in together a year ago.” I try to keep my voice casual.

They all nod, and the tall brunette jumps in with: “That’s exciting!”

Cue another awkward silence. “So what did you two do for Valentine’s this year?” she offers.

“Uh, we took it pretty easy.” I glance back at Boyfriend and decide to drop the ingratiation game and tell the truth. “Actually, he got me a great gift, it was perfect.”

“What was it?” They sip their drinks and look bored.

“Paper towels and toilet paper.” Three necks spring to life as their owners stare in confusion.

“What?” the tall brunette asks, frowning.

“He called me the day before and asked me what I wanted,” I shrug. “All I could think to say was paper towels and toilet paper. We needed them for the apartment. So he brought home big bags of both. I was thrilled.”

They gawk as if I’ve just announced he bought me a gallon of rohypnol and ten packages of anal beads.

Dismissing me for good, the blonde turns to the short brunette. “Lindsey, didn’t you tell me you were thinking of having your shower at Cafe Boulud? I went to an engagement dinner there the other night, we should definitely discuss.” My presence is apparently forgotten.

“It was nice meeting you all. I have to run.” They toss me perfunctory nods sans eye contact as I make a beeline for the bar, remembering why I’ve never been good in these scenarios.