What I was thinking my first time at Gatsby's party

I thought I would never find him that night. I believe that on the first night I went to Gatsby's house I was one of the few guests who had actually been invited.  Most of the guests were introduced to someone who had known Gatsby and were not actually invited. Sometimes they came and went without having met Gatsby at all. I had been actually invited. A chauffeur in a uniform crossed my lawn early that Saturday morning with a surprisingly formal note from his employer: the honor would be entirely Gatsby's, it said, if I would attend his "little party" that night. He had seen me several times, and had intended to call on me long before, but a peculiar combination of circumstances had prevented it --- signed Jay Gatsby, in a majestic hand. So I accepted his invitation and went over to the party dressed in white flannels. As soon as I arrived I made an attempt to find my host, but the two or three people of whom I asked his whereabouts stared at me in such an amazed way, and denied so vehemently any knowledge of his movements, that I slunk off in the direction of the cocktail table. While walking to the bar, I saw Jordan Baker. We advanced toward each other and she took my hand. We walked through the gardens talking about Gatsby and his parties. They both wanted to meet the host. After looking at the bars and the library, Jordan and I took a seat at a table with a man of about my age and a rowdy little girl. The man turned to me and said I looked familiar. He then asked if I was in the Third Division during the war. We went on talking about the war and how he had just brought a hydroplane. He asked if I would like to join him tomorrow when he tried it out in the morning. A very polite fellow was he. He turned out to be Gatsby himself, the man I had spent the night looking for.