A Tale of Two Parties

Last night I went to two parties. I don't get invited to that many parties, and me actually attending parties that I am invited to isn't very common, so the mere fact that I went to two parties last night is almost blog-worthy in and of itself.

As a precursor to the remainder of this blog, let me say a little something about communities. I went to an itty-bitty high school. Unless I was just blissfully unaware, there weren't cliques. There were no jocks that sat at a different table from the geeks that mocked the skaters that [past tense verb] the [stereotype].

As an adult (at least physically), I've kind of established a group of friends and a couple of concentric circles of acquaintances and girls and people that aren't like me... I don't have tats or do drugs (other than caffeine and alcohol and porn) but I have people that I've hung out with that do. I've never thought that I'm a social chameleon or anything, but I tend to be just as comfortable around any given kind of person as any other kind (which, since I'm INTJ, is never very comfortable).

I say all of this because I was in two totally different circles of people last night. Different from one another and different from what I was used to.

The first party was a post-holiday one that my friend's dad threw (I'd normally mention which friend, using a nickname, but I don't want to embarrass anyone other than myself in this post, so I'm refraining). I'll call his dad Daddy. Not in person, to his chagrin. But that's getting ahead of myself.

Daddy lives with his partner in a beautiful house. The two gentlemen throw excellent parties, which I have had the honor of attending a couple of. Last night's party was no different. We arrived at about 5:30 PM and the party (which had kicked off at 5:00) was already busy-busy. There were about fifty people there, I'd guess, at that point, and it only got busier over the next couple of hours.

5:00 is really early to start a party, but it worked out exceedingly well for us because of our second party later that night. It also worked out exceedingly well for many of the party-goers, who appeared to be significantly older than the crowd I'm usually hanging with. I don't know the age distribution, but I would estimate about a quarter of the party-goers were over 60, and three-quarters were over 40. I would bet there were as many people over 70 as there were under 30. Which made sense... the party was for Daddy's friends, family, and co-workers.

The food was delicious. The drinks were strong and free. I knew just enough people to avoid having to check the Web on my phone as an instinctive response to being surrounded by strangers.

The next party kicked off at about 10:00, and we'd planned on being there around then. At least that was the plan.

By 9:45, the party had lightened up considerably. The blue hairs had left for the most part. The akvavit rounds had been consumed. People were settling around tables on the heated porch outside to talk and unwind.

My friend and I were sitting at a table, discussing the CHC scale (if you don't know what it is: it's the Cute/Hot/Classy approach to discussing how attractive women are) and we were approached by Red Jacket Guy. Red Jacket Guy (RJG) had earlier in the evening irked my friend by holding his half-full drink glass in front of a camera during a photo opp earlier in the evening in spite of (a) standing BEHIND the picture-taker, and (b) being asked repeatedly to knock it off.

RJG was loud, pretty obnoxious, gay, and wearing (shockingly, I know... you never saw this one coming) a red sports coat.

He came up and asked us what we were talking about, and he managed to ask us to rate (on the CHC scale) a series of celebrities that gay guys seem to love. Audrey Hepburn. Debra Messing. It was remarkable. I try to reject stereotypes. But it was remarkable.

It also was annoying my friend. I was trying to play peacemaker by smoothing out rough edges in the chit-chat. I was trying so hard that I barely noticed the guy touching my arm. And my knee. And my thigh.

He was kino plowing me. Amazing.

Eventually (and mercifully) the conversation ended. My friend and I wandered over to another table, where Daddy was holding court. He was comfortable and a bit impaired and was talking to a few other people. He waved me over to him and put his arm around me in a convivial way and introduced me to the Judge. The Judge was a nice guy who happened to be (like me) a member of the Washington State Bar. We rattled off our bar numbers (why do I have mine memorized? Why would I EVER have to know it off the top of my head, let alone when I'm drunk?) and we were all having a good conversation.

And then I noticed that Daddy had his arm around my waist. He had some sort of semi-lecherous death-grip on my left hip region and even stated, "You have a nice form!"

You know how sometimes women have to deal with grandfather-like figures that flirt with/compliment them? I have seen that happen before, and I think I underestimated the difficulty of the situation... because I'd never lived it. I think being the grandfather figure will be more fun.

It was like 11:00 before we finally left. The Judge offered me his number (I don't remember exactly how I said, "No." I think I just kinda mumbled as I kept walking.)

When you're hot you're hot.

So onto the second party. My buddy Cab is really plugged into the Seattle music scene and he had a 30th bday extravaganza. Six bands played sets where they covered other bands, including Kiss and the Misfits and Jawbreaker.

It's super-cool that there was a bday party for Cab, but I guess it was even a bigger deal than I was able to appreciate... the bands performing weren't just random guys. They were kind of a big deal.

Of course, that is not my scene. I don't mean it in the "I'm better than that" kind of way... I just don't go to shows very often, and the shows I go to are almost never entirely populated by people wearing nearly exclusively black with a lot of tattoos and piercings.

My friend and I missed the first couple of sets, unfortunately, but we had a great time watching the rest of the show. Cab performed with the last group, playing guitar and singing. I very, very rarely get jealouse but watching him play and sing I so wanted to be in a band. (Side note: will I do anything about it? Uh. What do you think?)

I also saw a couple people I knew/semi-knew. Cab's wife. Her friend. And a girl that I'd met once or twice over a year ago. I talked to her for a bit and I managed to both offend her and make a fool of myself within 18 seconds... which she spent about a half-hour throughout the rest of the night telling me about.

It was a fun night and a massive improvement on the previous one, when my Xbox 360, t-mobile network, and Portland Trail Blazers had all failed me.