I went to a party the other day.
It was the kind of party that you're not really sure you should go to or not.
You know the type of thing:
I got the invite from a mate at work. He's a good mate and that, but the party was for his girlfriend's 21st birthday, and I think I had only met her once or twice.
Once I think.
His bro was there and I had met him too, and his missus of course, but apart from that I wouldn't know anyone at all. I decided on the day of the party that I would actually go, having thought for the last 10 days that I would give some kind of half commitment all week, and then suddenly recall that I had forgotten my dream date with the sofa bound hunk we all refer to as 'can't be arsed'.
However, I decided on the day that I was in serious need of entertainment.
I was days away from having been 1 year without a girlfriend, and historically my ability to become 'not single' has been second to none, but now, in the twighlight of my twenties as the grey hair that cruelly attacked me as a tender teenager takes hold, I find that she shitty stick I may once have required lays dormant, and has become dried and ineffective - heaven forbid it should be required. So I went to the party, clinging to the crazy notion that perhaps widening my circle of friends from the drug fucked pissheads that I currently spend my time with, to a group of strangers that I had never met, might result in some amazingly positive turnaround in my life as the woman of my dreams whisks me off to some dreamy kind of 'I've got myself a reasonably fit girlfriend who likes sex and can hold a converation and im getting on a bit perhaps if i dont vomit on this one she'll maybe 'settle down' with me' place. So I turn up to the party, and wished instantly that I was either drunk, or elsewhere.
I was most definately the 'sober outsider' for the early half of the evening.
<*dv_1*> Despite my best efforts (which were remarkably poor by the way), I only managed to progress one rank up the party hierarchy. I settled into the 'drunken outsider' role fairly well. It was less intense than the sober equivalent, and the funny thing was, everyone else changed themselves at exactly the same time.
It was like everyone agreed to change at the same time, and although I didnt know about it, I went along with it too.
I changed from being sober, to being drunk, at exactly the same time!
It was amazing!
There was one bloke for example, I cant remember his name, but it's on the tip of my tongue. I can't remember it now but I probably will in a minute, and then when I say it randomly you'll think Im a freak, but this guy was definitely in on the joke.
When I turned up he was all like "My jobs better than yours", and "Although Im saying nothing to suggest that I am, you can bet that Im really happy with my life, and everythings just great", but then all of a sudden, at exactly the same time that I made my progress up the party ladder, he too went through a change. Gone were his superior arguments and smackdowns in the general party banter. He had changed from an influential, confident, domineering jokester, to a weasely little twat whose patronising digs were becoming starting to fuck me right off. He and his other half, who was considerably better looking than he was, even having taken into consideration the 'he's a man' factor, left quite early.
I realised that I had offended him in some way, and sat down in the living room, having to squeeze past the main throng of the party in the kitchen to do so.
I think there was a couple sat beside me on the couch for a while, but then the realisation that I wasn't going anywhere fast suddenly hit home to them, and they staggered off, bemoaning the intrusion.
This seemed to be some kind of signal for everyone to suddenly pile into the living room.
<*dv_0*> It's as though they wanted to all along, but the smooching couple prevented them from doing so.
I felt annoyed at the invasion to be honest. I had managed to find myself a quiet and comfortable hole to hide in and was even considering falling asleep. The sudden introduction of lights, music, people, and shouted conversation, seemed to be at the very least annoying.
Then I realised why the party had spilled over into the living room.
New people!
I didn't recognise her!
Or her!
oh, or him.
I sat there, on my own, and tried to look attentive as the new patrons settled themselves into the available chairs. All of the chairs were taken apart from the one next to me on the two seater couch.
I didn't take offence at this as everyone who had entered the room had made themselves comfortable and it wasn't surprising that they chose to sit in groups rather than with someone they had never met.
I looked up as another person entered the room. She was reasonably attractive I guess, which in my drunken state made her seem like the image of beauty that is normally reserved for vivid but false memories used to fuel the occasional wank, or perhaps Hollyoaks.
She looked nervously around the room.
Not one of the crowd I thought.
Nice arse I thought.
I wonder what she looks like naked I thought.
She looked at the empty space next to me on the couch, and sat on the floor next to another girl who looked like she was in the middle of a po-faced bitch competition.
I looked at them both.
The glance was quick.
<*dv_2*> It gave me just enough information to begin analysing: 1 She was really quite fit. 2 She looked bored. 3 Her mate looked like she was at a funeral. 3 She was foreign.
"Why are you staring at me?" she said.
Her accent was thick.
"Are you American?"
"No, Im Canadian" she said.
We started to talk and seemed to get on really well. She laughed at my jokes, and even laughed when I was being serious. I dont think she really had a clue what I was going on about, but we really seemed to 'click'. I spent many a happy minute trying to convince her that I genuinely thought she came from a country called 'Canadia', and explaining to her the difference between a barney and a barnet.
She made to get up, and then looked back at me with a wicked glint in her eye.
"Do you want a Sambucca?" she said.
I dont remember a great deal more about the evening, but I woke up in my clothes on the living room floor at about 6am, and decided to head off home.
I didnt see the Canadian girl as I left, but really hoped I would see her again.
After about 5 minutes of the journey I decided to give up remembering what her name was.
Jimmy If anyone can help Jimmy out, please email The Editor and I'll pass all information on. No really, I will!
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