Musings of Me

House Party

Halloween, of course, is a time for partying. Whether you choose to go to a house party (like I did), a club (like I did), or sit at home hovering protectively over a tub of chocolate (like I did), there are many ways to indulge yourself (I spent several days celebrating Halloween, in case you were wondering).

While clubbing and sequestering sugar under your bed are always entertaining activities worthy of note, nothing can outdo a classic house party. Even if the house party is one where you know absolutely no one.

The particular house party I ended up at was one of these. My sister, confident in her web of social activity, invited us all over to one of her co-worker’s Halloween bashes. Coworker Guy (I have no idea who he is, other than a reporter at her station) reputedly throws a calendar-worthy bash each year.

Unfortunately, due to retail, I showed up about midnight. If Cinderella had my work schedule, her Fairy Godmother would have had to have been a little more relaxed with time constraints. As it was, I was no Cinderella. I was an Evil Sorceress (like there are any other kind). Besides, that was the cheapest costume at Wal-Mart.

When I made it in the door, I found Catwoman, Cleopatra, and a Nurse leading the locomotion. I joined in, and halfway to the kitchen (where I saw my relatives) found our train interfering with a game of ping pong between The Wicked Witch of the West and Woody from Toy Story. I finally made it over to my sister and her husband, who had won the unofficial couple’s costume hands down: L. Bobbitt and her escort, Dr. Cox. Lisa was there as a cowgirl.

Once I had been settled in with a beer, I was introduced to some of the random ghouls. A bloody cardiologist was a rival producer at another station, and the man in tight leather pants owned several martial arts clinics around town. Catwoman was a good friend of Laura’s, and Captain Hook was our host.

Somewhere between re-filling my glass and petting the hell-hound (I think it was a lab), rumor reached me that there was ham in the dining room. There was. I had missed dinner, so it was with much relish I found myself hacking off slabs of pork. It was at this point judo-man (leather pants boy), who was chatting up Lisa and I, slapped my butt.

Now, even if you are a judo master, you do not slap my butt. After laughing it off (IE plotting potential recourse) and watching more of his antics with detached amusement, I decided he was harmless. With his inebriated state in mind, I determined not to frame a setup where he slaps another butt within view of his Nurse. His lack of sobriety was his saving grace (he was drunk silly, but obviously a really nice guy).

You thought I would use the knife, huh?

Once we dragged Dr. Cox away from where he was gleaning contacts in the IT industry, the party really took off. Eighties music was playing, people were goofing off, and we all had a great time. Somewhere along the line I even found time to playfully smack leather pants boy on his behind.

I never thought I would do that, but the expression on his face was priceless. I win.

posted by Jill @ 1:06 AM