Hostessing a House Party

[Originally written on this date in 2004]

Slept soundly following my return from the beach early in the morning. Then I promptly awoke at quater after seven for my chauffeur activity. When I reached my destination, I received news that a malfuncion voided the purpose for my trip, so we ran errands instead and I still received my pay.

Stopped off at the library to use one of their computers to catch up on a few things since the Asshole is not always willing to lend his.  Returned to the apartment in order to gather my things and then hopped in my car. Headed down the Parkway with a bit of speed and determination, smiling when the familiar sight of my best friend’s house came into view. Was caught in a hug immediately upon entering. The consumption of alcohol began early with a little something Jon had brewed up that he called Jersey Devil’s Reserve, and he refused to tell me exactly what was in it.

Two hours later, after we had smoked a joint and made a game plan, I set off to clean the bathroom and kitchen, thus making them presentable to the guests.  Just as I was beginning to relax, Jon announces that we must go buy food. First we have a shot and smoke a bowl, then we go to the supermarket. That has become one of my favorite things to do, especially when high, because it is as though people have never seen other people shopping before, and so I find the whole experience to be quite hilarious.

Sorted the groceries out once we returned to his house and took charge in preparation of the chicken cutlets. Jon manned the frying pans, and together we created an efficient system that yielded delicious-looking results. After completing the chicken we set ourselves to the task of making and assembling the rest of the dishes, then took another smoke break.

Watched some Simpsons while assembling myself, keeping both hair and makeup simple, neat and clean. Or as Jon said, I managed to pull off the perfect 50’s housewife look with black halterneck dress and coordinating heels, while my tattoos, piercings and short hair were contemporary reminders to society that I was fully empowered and would take shit from no one.  He was quite stunning in a proper vintage cobalt blue suit with powder blue shirt, matching striped tie and pocket square, blue snakeskin boots peering from beneath the trousers. Hair glistened in soft waves and I swear that I felt myself blush horribly as he stole a tiny kiss right when the doorbell rang.

Guests arrived in a steady flow and certainly brought along their appetites. Plates were being filled with food while conversations blended. The alcohol was flowing and at least three joints were circulating around the room at all times. Became occupied by a lovely lady who expressed interest in changing her hairstyle, and I suggested that she perhaps go for a richer color. An A-line cut would be fantastic and accenuate her face more, but she mentioned being somewhat attached to her length so was unsure if something that was shorter would suit her.

Had an interesting conversation with her boyfriend, who apparently really wants a genital piercing. He was pretty animate about it and kept asking me the names of different ones, what kind of jewelry they used and how long it would take to have sex again. If he was any other random creeper and not a greaser I would have definitely walked away, but I was kind of humored by his flagrant disregard for the others who were giving him glares because he was talking so loudly about wanting to pierce his cock.

Between serving dinner and setting out desert, Jon and I did a bit of sideshow for the guests who were totally surprised. While it was only a few acts, they were well-receptive and fully interactive which just made the whole set that much more enjoyable. Jon shocked even me when he resurrected his old Geek act, which may have actually grossed out several people. It was incredibly unexpected but bloody brilliant and perhaps even a bit disturbing.

A classic moment from the evening is when one of Jon’s friend somehow manages to lose his keys. He walked the house several times, retracing his steps in order to find them, and comes up with nothing. He goes out in the street a few times but still has no keys. He shrugged it off as no big loss and headed for home. He then returns a few moments later, remembering that he placed them in a hat. Reaching behind the food, he produced both hat and keys, which caused a hearty round of laughter from everyone.

Several hours later, I have officially lost count of the alcohol consumed and joints smoked, and sleep was definitely getting to everyone. The guests parted graciously, and thanks was kindly given.

We contemplated whether we should use what little energy we had left to clean up or wait until we got up the next day. Considering the fact that it was already well into the a.m. hour, we do some drag racing and get the whole house tidied in record time. Then we go out to the beach and watch the sun rise. There is still sand stuck between my toes when we climb in bed, but I am smiling again and nothing else matters.


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