Jim had recovered from his afternoon bout of existential misery and ravenous hunger, and had stopped by to see Kate; he had a jacket already, boring as it was, but needed a more formal pair of trousers. He dealt with the inevitable jokes and managed to get through his bathroom routine without showering three times or doing anything else that was time-consumingly crazy. The plumbing seemed fine today.
He was still in a lugubrious mood, but he liked parties, and being around other people usually perked him up. A good proportion of his job was to attend a lot of parties...most of them just happened to be really boring ones, with a lot of old people and fundraising and lemon squares. This one scored a lot better on the food and the company. Everybody here really did seem to be surprisingly good-looking.
He got a glass of wine, because there was nothing sadder than a sober Irish priest at a party, and when he spotted Juno talking to the shorter guy, Marco, he went over to say hello. Juno counted as a friend, he figured. "Hey, nice to see you," he said. "How's it going, is the party actually another trap or what?"