Party Animal

Introspection has made me aware of something that I feel should be vented. Lex, isn't a party animal.
In fact, looking back at the few parties I have attended, my enjoyment has been nil to minimal.

The whole concept of parties seems to go over my head. Being around other people (boring) and making small talk (really boring) and talking about myself (excruciatingly boring) and listening to other people talk about themselves whilst feigning interest (painfully boring).
At the end of which I must thank the host for a wonderful party (I'm not good at hypocrisy) and kiss everybody goodbye on the cheek and shake hands with people (need to wash hands really quickly now before I wipe my ass.)

I remember attending one party where everyone else except me talked in a different language. I had to sit there and laugh when the others laughed on cue, so I wouldn't stand out as a sourpuss. Nobody thought anything of the fact that I didn't speak their language or cared.

There was the party that was full of people I didn't know except the host. I immediately realized my mistake when I turned up. The horror hit me straight away, "what the hell am I doing here?, I don't know any of these people". Needless to say I had no funny stories or amusing anecdotes to offer. I managed to slither away with the excuse of poor health.

Then I remember the party where all the guests turned up in "black tie" except Lex. Instant pariah in this crowd, I desperately attempted to mingle with but seemed to stand out by my attire, or maybe it was the fact that I was the only Caucasian in a sea of Asian faces.
Trying to explain that I was not related to the host wasn't difficult, trying to justify why I was there was, and giving the excuse of a long friendship seemed like a pathetic excuse of a gatecrasher looking for free drinks.

I have a vague recollection of leaving a party very quickly when the host decided we should all play parlor games. Not strip poker or spin the bottle but silly kids games. I hadn't played games like that since I was a teenager. In fact, I don't like games, I don't like card games, i don't like computer games. If I recall the host of this particular party wanted us to play musical chairs. I can feel the nausea coming on just at the thought of it.

My earliest memory was as a naive, 12 year old at a birthday party. Things were going smoothly until the girls all wanted to dance. My sense of dignity didn't allow me to flail my arms in the air and gyrate my hips like I was toying with an invisible hoop. Not even the first attempts at experimental kissing with girls can wipe away the horror of the thought of dancing.

As a child, I had to endure family gatherings, always excruciatingly boring.
Gatherings of the assorted uncles and aunties, wrinkly old grandparents who inevitably told me how much I'd grown and always asked the same old questions. Well, I still don't know what I want to be when I grow up.

Of course, I have been to some really good parties but I don't remember how I got home or much about the party itself.