Party Favors

Two hermits lived in a cave. One day a little dog ran by outside the cave. Six months later one of the hermits said "That was a nice little black dog that was just here." Eight months after that the other hermit said "It wasn't black. It was white." A year later the first hermit said "If we're gonna continue this constant bickering, I'm leaving."


That's kind of how I feel about this blog. But I digress.


On superbowl sunday my friend and I (we'll call him "Mr. X") went to a friend's house to watch the game. This friend had converted his entire garage into a tiki lounge, complete with full wet bar with thatched roof, surfboard tables, and kegerator. It was pretty damn sweet. Mr. X drank just about as much beer as I did, but apparently he hadn't eaten anything since around 1984, so he got pretty drunk. Understandable. It is the superbowl. He didn't really do anything out of hand. Mostly it consisted of him entering each room of the house and declaring "PATRIOOOOOOOOOOOTS!!!!". Empty rooms received the same news. We left the party and he actually sobered up a bit. By the time we got to the bar he was semi-coherent. We made quick work of that. Mr. X likes to occasionally use a joke which has the following formula: Person says something to you. You say "You're a _____", inserting the last word the person said to you as the last word of your retort. When done right it can actually be quite funny. On this particular occasion we were out on the patio of the bar, where patrons are allowed to smoke and drink until a certain hour. The bouncer came out to tell us that hour had arrived. "C'mon guys, you gotta bring your drinks inside. It's midnight." "You're a midnight", Mr. X retaliated. This apparently did not please our large African American friend. Mr. X soon found himself outside.


A couple of weeks ago, Mr. X and I went back to my friend's house for a party. Before partaking of the joys of the tiki bar, Mr. X made sure to offer his apologies to our host for his superbowl antics. And that brings me to my point. I had a feeling that Mr. X had no real reason to apologize, as he hadn't committed any unforgivable party fouls. We were about to find out how right I was. After what happened next, any thoughts of what Mr. X had done on superbowl night would be completely erased by the craziest thing I ever saw at a party in my life.


We'd spent about half an hour at the party, and were in a heated game of pool with our host and another friend. In the room were several other people, including our host's girlfriend and another classmate of mine, a girl seated in a chair watching the game. The room was brightly lit - a living room in the front of the house where there was ample room for the pool table and plenty of seating. Along one wall near the middle of the room stood a small, waist high garbage can - the silver kind with the lid that raises when you depress a pedal at the bottom. It was my shot. Before I surveyed the table, I looked up to see a new guy in the room. He walked to the garbage can, unzipped his pants, and proceeded to pee on the closed lid of the can. I was the first one to notice, and the only response I could muster was to point at him and shout at the top of my lungs "OH MY GOD THAT'S REALLY HAPPENING. THAT'S REALLY HAPPENING!" Several people began shouting at this guy that that wasn't the bathroom. Still peeing (he must really have had to go) he made eye contact with each person shouting at him, individually, a glazed and confused look in his eyes. The pee splashed right off the lid, causing a lawn sprinkler effect for about a three foot radius around him. My female friend in the chair was the last to look around, and jumped screaming from her seat to run across the room. Simultaneously, I saw our host's girlfriend shoving him up the stairs. I was confused by this until later when she told me it was to stop him from tearing the drunk pee guy limb from limb on the spot. Totally understandable. In the meantime, the gay guy who walked into the room behind the peeing drunk and didn't know what everyone was staring at until he looked over drunk guy's shoulder, provided our entertainment with his shrieks.


Unfortunately, Mr. X missed this. He was outside smoking, and by the time he came in the drunk peeing guy was passed out on the couch. We covered him in streamers and someone wrote "I.P. Freely" in permanent marker on his neck, but that was it. Our host explained that he'd rather wait until morning to break his legs, so he'd feel the full effect. I haven't checked on the outcome of that, but I will provide an update. Who was the peeing guy, you might ask? No one knows. It was his first time at the house.


So the next time you think you may have made an ass of yourself at a party, ask yourself this question: "Did I pee in the middle of the living room while making eye contact with 7-10 people?" If not, walk it off. You're totally cool.