Pithy Party

I'm going to a party tomorrow evening.  I hadn't even decided until about two days ago that I was for certain going to attend.  More and more, I am finding big parties overwhelming.  There is something seriously awesome about getting hugs from 45 people who actually recognize you at a party.  And there is something depressing about the fact that less than 5% of those people actually know anything about me.  


I think my distaste for parties comes from the fact that I tend to have the same experiences repeatedly.  The cast of characters I seem to stumble upon has become more predictable than a Kate Hudson rom-com.  Here's a short list you won't find on IMDB: 


The Fucked Up Person: "So I was on nitrous the other night and I was looking at the popcorn ceiling in my friend's apartment and I thought WHOA.  I wonder if that's what Mars looks like.  Do you think they have popcorn on Mars?"  This person will not wait for me to answer whether I think there is popcorn on Mars but will forge ahead tangentially until I "need to go to the bathroom."  This person may or may not notice that I have left.  


The Really Fucked Up Person: No quotes.  Just saucer-sized pupils and incessant giggling.  The upside is that it's easy to gracefully get away because they truly have no idea where they are or who you are. 


The Too Much Information Person: "Yeah, so my roommate just up and moved out because of this wacko dominatrix she met on Craigslist.  My rent is due in 3 days and I am B-R-O-K-E broke.  I'm also super fucked up because I'm being hounded for this hospital bill from like 3 years ago when my boyfriend's cousin blew up his meth lab in his garage.  It was so sick, but then like, I got sick.  Hey, are you getting another beer?"  This is all in response to the seemingly innocuous question of "How are you?"  


The Looking For A Better Offer Person:  This person will politely greet and hug you but it's tough not to be acutely aware that they are scanning the room for someone more interesting/hotter/selling drugs.  


The Universer:  Uses words like energy, vibration and aura.  Is probably sporting a hula hoop like a purse.  Believes "things happen for a reason" and that because it is so obviously true, you believe that as well.  It is dangerous to engage this person in conversation because listening to them is like listening to a baby talk.  There are sounds but none of it makes sense.  


The Angry Guy: Cannot wait to tell you how such-and-such person(s) has fucked him over in infinite ways.  Seems on the verge of knocking over a liquor store.  Is on a personal mission to inform the entire community that Joe-Bob is an asshole without stopping realize that his personal mission more or less personifies him as an asshole as well.  


The Perpetually Stoned: Conversation is usually impossible but they will offer you special cookies.  


The Bad Parent: Tells you stories of how terrible their kids are and you inevitably wonder "What the fuck are you doing at a party?  Why aren't you home teaching your kid not to be a psychopath?"  


The Goo-goo Parent:  Thinks EVERYONE cares that they have recently birthed a human being.  Believes that pictures of recently hatched human being supercede all else.  Will whip out small person photos despite the thumping music and black lights.  You point out that their baby has horns but they cannot hear you.  


The Old Hippie: Starts most conversations with "Remember when..." or "Did you hear about when we..."  Usually has a collection of Natty Ice cans around their feet and probably half a doobie clenched tightly in hands that have never seen anti-bacterial soap.  


The Creepy Guy: Will hit on anything that *may* have a vagina.  Is occasionally wrong.  Breathes on you and has no concept of personal space.  Tries to flirt but leaves you feeling sexually harassed and wondering if the party has an HR department.  


The Party Swingers:  Probably not actual swingers, but often have no boundaries at parties.  Prefer to ask forgiveness rather than permission.  Will probably fight at some point during the evening and create awkward situations by asking party-goers to choose sides.  Often resort to such tried-and-true tactics as making out with the partner's arch enemy.  Will probably have nasty make-up sex in your bathroom.  Put out some extra towels.  


Lest you think I am the penultimate elitist wet blanket, I have occasionally BEEN some of these people.  I am most certainly not immune to being annoying or getting fucked up.  But the parties are frequent and I admit to being bored with all the nodding and smiling.  I also tend to reserve my alcohol-fueled brilliance for small gatherings.  


Predictable caricatures aside, I will don my party smile and do my best to enjoy the interesting and ignore the annoying.  


Party on, Wayne.