The party was coming to a slow end. The music was still booming and alcohol was spilled all upon the floor. Too many people lay asleep on the floor after partaking in too much of the fine alcohol that was quite prohibited. Several people were gathered on the dock with you speaking about the changes of the world. The fog in the air was so thick you couldn't tell exactly who was next to you and who was speaking. The waves crashed over and over against the dock. The beautiful sound of things moving forward. You found it quite poetic in your own life. How we, go forward sometimes crashing like the waves, sometimes mysterious like the fog or sometimes bright like the green light in the distance. What was that green light.

What are you looking at Old Sport?

You have yet to hear that voice. One that spoke with such sure authority yet with such manners. It was rare in this time period that one could speak with both. A glass was placed against something hard and made a loud sound. Everything began to quiet down. How could one know that you were looking at that green light across the dark lake? You could barely see who was across from you with all the cigar smoke and fog looming about. The footsteps of someone came closer to you. This person was not originally sitting with you and the others on the dock. He wasn't with you discussing politics and the current trends. He was here now though.

I said, What are you looking at Old Sport? Are you looking at that Green light over there, across the lake? I too look at that light Old Sport. In fact i often come out here and sit right where all of you are and just look at that green light. Its pretty foggy about this time of the night. The waves, oh how they crash, booming across the entire lake, and yet its still so quiet. 

This must have been Gatsby. The person who invited you to this party. He was finally coming out to enjoy it but everyone was already asleep and you couldnt even see his face because the fog was so thick. Surely the excess firework smoke had nothing to do with it. The light from the moon shined down from his shoes all the way up to his tie. You could see that he was dressed in a most appropriate manner. He had the whitest of suits. A three piece no less. This man held no reserve on any material thing and suits for himself were no less. You stand up to greet him but he quickly eases you from the physical exertion of standing.

Please, sit. There is no need to stand Old Sport. You have been standing and dancing all night. 

How could he have known this? Was he watching you? Was he keeping tabs on you? Who was this guy and how did he notice all that you did? This was his party why wasn't he enjoying it for himself? So many questions beginning to resound in your head. Why in the world would anyone come out this late to stare at a dim green light across a foggy lake? You would think that someone with that much money would do something far more creative with their time. 

So, what does that green light mean to you across the foggy lake? I know what you are thinking Old Sport. It is just a green light. It is so much more. See just look at it with me. It represents everything we are. Across the raging waters, across the murky skies, a part from all that i am right now in this moment lies the one thing i desire...

A green light. This man desires a green light. You were sure the people at the party were not the only ones abusing drugs at this time. You were ready to make your escape until he continued to ask you more. 

You see Old Sport, that green light is our dreams. It is what we crave what we want to do with our life. We only have one Old Sport. So look out at that green light with me once more. Now i am going to ask you again. With the realization that this is your only life. What does that Green light mean to you Old Sport? It may mean an excess of body guards to keep you safe when you sleep. It can mean a load of friends who will flood your mail box with letters of appreciation. It can mean to own everything and run your own business with people working for you. But for everyone, everywhere, they have green light. All i want Old Sport is to know what your Green Light is. 

So Gatsby decided to wait for you to get to the dock in the middle of the night before approaching you and asking you what your dreams are in life. Who was he? He barely talks to anyone! Why would you care to share your most prized hopes with him? Gatsby began pouring the champagne into your glass and you could tell that he was smiling by the way he said his last thing to you.

I do hope you will answer, Old Sport.