They call me Neil Ferris. Ever since I moved in to East Egg, this man called Gatsby has been the talk of the town. I moved here to be closer to my family. I grew up in California, but my father’s side all live out east. Now that I turned 18, my parents thought it’d be best for me to spend some time with the other side of my family and get to know some of my more distant relatives. For now, I’m living in a smaller secluded house next to my aunt and uncle’s.
My cousin Mark got me work at a drugstore in West Egg. I think the job’s more trouble than it’s worth, but on my way to work I pass by Gatsby’s house, if you can even call it a house. It’s more comparable to a castle. Not to mention the countless parties he has. I see bright lights and hear …show more content…
“Hey, Neil. Put some nice clothes on. We’re going to Gatsby’s.” Mark announced.
“What? Are you crazy?!” I exclaimed. “We aren’t cut out to be a part of one of his parties.”
“Huh? Sure we are. Let’s go, I do not want to get there and all the hors d'oeuvres be gone.”
“Alright, alright, just give me a second.” I put on my nicest jacket and we left the house. The cool air mixed with anticipation sent shivers down my spine. “So how do these parties usually go?” I inquired.
“I’m not sure. Like any other party I suppose. You drink, you eat, you dance, try to have a little fun.” Mark replied.
Soon we were approaching Gatsby’s sprawling mansion. The thing about Gatsby’s was that he never invited anyone. “Sometimes they came and went without having met Gatsby at all, came for the party with a simplicity of heart that was its own ticket of admission” (45). No one had to pay to enter, the man paid for everything out of his own pocket. What a guy! I couldn’t help wonder how he acquired such money to fund all of these parties. But I didn't dwell on this thought much longer because the loud music was making it harder to think. I looked up through the gates. We were here, a real live Gatsby party, and I was an
My cousin Mark got me work at a drugstore in West Egg. I think the job’s more trouble than it’s worth, but on my way to work I pass by Gatsby’s house, if you can even call it a house. It’s more comparable to a castle. Not to mention the countless parties he has. I see bright lights and hear …show more content…
“Hey, Neil. Put some nice clothes on. We’re going to Gatsby’s.” Mark announced.
“What? Are you crazy?!” I exclaimed. “We aren’t cut out to be a part of one of his parties.”
“Huh? Sure we are. Let’s go, I do not want to get there and all the hors d'oeuvres be gone.”
“Alright, alright, just give me a second.” I put on my nicest jacket and we left the house. The cool air mixed with anticipation sent shivers down my spine. “So how do these parties usually go?” I inquired.
“I’m not sure. Like any other party I suppose. You drink, you eat, you dance, try to have a little fun.” Mark replied.
Soon we were approaching Gatsby’s sprawling mansion. The thing about Gatsby’s was that he never invited anyone. “Sometimes they came and went without having met Gatsby at all, came for the party with a simplicity of heart that was its own ticket of admission” (45). No one had to pay to enter, the man paid for everything out of his own pocket. What a guy! I couldn’t help wonder how he acquired such money to fund all of these parties. But I didn't dwell on this thought much longer because the loud music was making it harder to think. I looked up through the gates. We were here, a real live Gatsby party, and I was an