I have never really liked
parties. I remember when I was around ten years old my mom invited a bunch of
boys over for a birthday party for me. I was underwhelmed. Not one of them were
my friends, they were the sons of my mom's friends. Most people light up at the
thought of a party and look forward to them with fondness, as if every party is
going to be like Animal House. They aren't, unless you count my younger
brother's parties from years ago. He always fueled them with gallons of booze
and an unlimited supply of drugs. Luckily he didn't kill himself and has since
quit all that nonsense. Earlier this week Mark informed me that we were going
to a party.
"You don't have to go if you don't want to, but I'd
really like you to. It's going to be a pool party."
"What's wrong with our pool?" I asked him.
Anyway, I agreed to go with
the stipulation that I could call a taxi and go home if I got bored. So on
Sunday afternoon Mark and I went partying, woo hoo... It turned out to be as dismal as I imagined
it would be. I realize that I am an old fart fag, which is fine, but that
doesn't mean I like to socialize with nothing but other old fart fags. They
spend way too much time reminiscing about old bars they went to and how it was
so much better "back then". Then there are the health issues. At one
point I was pulled into a conversation about hospitals, doctors, and the
various maladies that affect the older body. I just couldn't compete with one
fellow who insisted that a shoulder operation cleared up his vision. Did I
mention that it was a pool party? Outside around the swimming pool it was eye
watering. There were flabby asses half hanging out of tight 1970's era swimming
suits, and at least one hairy orb trying to escape one fellows ill fitting pair
of shorts. After about fifteen minutes of "partying" I was ready to
call a cab to come get me. As I made my way over to a quiet area of the house
so that I could make my phone call, an elderly guy with a slight hunch back
walked past me. He was wearing a tee shirt with a cute saying on the front of
it. It read, "I shaved my balls for this?"
My thoughts exactly.
My lesbian friends and I are always impressed by gay men's packages at the beach. We always wonder if they're real or they're padding...
ReplyDeleteNot padding. Gay men have devices that enhance, like women have pushup bras.
ReplyDeleteA good host will always have activities around for the guests to partake in. There's nothing more boring than sitting around in circles talking about humdrum conversation. You could have played bingo, cards, trivial pursuit, watched a funny movie, or hire a stripper for the last hour of the party to entice your guests to stay around. I'll bet you missed the stripper by going home early...
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