Oh, Swope. How you tease me. I attend your show openings; your First Friday events; your cocktail parties. And for a moment, I feel like I have successfully entered Sophisticated Grown Up Land. No longer do I feel like a nine year old with the particularly clever disguise of a twenty seven year old woman. As I navigate your varied events, my confidence grows. I can successfully Mingle With Other Event- Goers. I can Drink One Glass of Wine Instead of Four (thank you, cash bar), and Talk About Art. By at least an hour in, I’m feeling smug. “Look at me”, I think to myself as I stand talking to my friends in front of one of Andy Warhol’s Marilyns. “A grown up. Finally.”

This all ends abruptly as I reach the level upon which the Swope has decided to put their food spread that evening and I go into some kind of blackout. One moment I’m admiring eye-popping art from local schoolkids, and literally the next thing I know, I’m standing by the snacks and trying to decide what the most effective method would be to cram the entire chocolate chip cheese ball into my mouth without attracting too much attention to myself.

Judging from most places I’ve been in Terre Haute when out at night, the downtown community has discovered that an excellent way to draw yet more people to a party is to offer up chances to blissfully expand one’s waistline. Etiquette varies: at virtually all the art galleries on First Friday, you have to be careful to balance your desire to try every single type of cheese and chocolate covered treat with good manners and an uncomfortable feeling that someone might take notice should you linger too long by the chocolate covered strawberries. Not being particularly good at that, I luck out in that all the galleries on First Friday offer goodies now, and one can traipse down Wabash sampling a few treats here and a few there and taking in a vast array of amazing art. Or I can just drop in on Open Mic Night at the Verve on Mondays, where one of their employees with a talent for baking had the genius idea of supplying the bar with a spread of incredible miniature cupcakes. There, under the dimmed lights and with everyone’s attention directed toward the eclectic group of musicians that come together to pass around a guitar and try out their chops, you can feel a little more free to go for that third pastry unnoticed.

It seems that this year, all at once, downtown Terre Haute has silently agreed to pander to the food-phile. I’m concerned for my dress size. But not enough to avoid the California rolls and truffles at the Swope cocktail party.