Sunday, January 27, 2008

1/27/08

I'm pretty sure watching SNL play worldless on a tiny TV screen was a defense mechanism. Until I acclimated I kept my eyes on a steady track, float down to the TV screen, up to the poster on the wall, down to Rios, say something, look at Shelly saying something, look at Katie saying something, back to Rios, back to the TV. My throat was closed, the music was loud, I'd have to raise my voice to be heard so I just smiled. The crowd of people shoved their asses into crotches and danced and danced and threw their hands up and went 'oh.' Rap music is loud. Rios had a drink that was green-blue and smelled like Everclear. We asked for no Everclear. When we asked Shelly what it was, she explained that it was Mountain Dew and Everclear. Rios traded it for a red drink with Tequila in it. I had a Keystone Light or Lite, I can't remember. It was cold.

People danced and Rios and I noticed that as soon as a group of girls would start dancing, a young man with shaggy hair would appear out of nowhere, all face and alcohol, and he'd be in the middle of everything, grabbing booty, tits, hips, whatever, and holding his beer in one hand, always.

There was a walkie talkie hanging from the wall and I asked about it and Katie told me, That's random. Random. If you knew the girl who lives here it'd make more sense. Later on that evening, she had a dance off with a black guy that could pop his ass and move over the carpet like it was ice. I was impressed and laughed and I only had two beers the entire time. A group of Air Force guys were there, and one of them had a bluetooth and seemed very small for his clothes and talked how a select group of young white people seem to think young black men talk and sometimes, inexplicably, he would lift his shirt as he was talking, as an exclamation point, almost.

There was beer pong which I did not play. I almost did, for a second, someone needed a partner and I said "okay" and threw one ball before an alpha male in a horrible green shirt that was opened slightly at the top yelled that it was his beer and he and his friend, a young black man who dressed handsomely and who earlier had high fived me and explained that he was smashed son, fuckin smashed, nigga, were going to play. So I sat in one of those fold out camping chairs, made from the kind of material that makes you shiver if you scratch your fingernails over it, and I watched and listened to Rios and Shelly talk and then Rios and I left. We were there for two hours, and this party was like no other one I'd been too. I've been to bigger ones, but never with so many good looking people, so few (that is, none) punks, and no fights or aggressive activity. It was polished, loud, fun, and there were tons of drunk bitches. And it was hot, let me tell you.

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