Late Night Shenanigans

The fire was excessively warm since the person stoking it was excessively drunk. At 3:00 AM, he was in good company. Most of the people sitting around the fire pit had glazed looks on their faces or were talking animatedly about the virtues of not using firearms after taking hallucinogenics.

I enjoy being the sober one at parties for many reasons. One is that it is a great opportunity to voyeur into human behavior unnoticed. I enjoy watching who hits on everyone, who tries to expound eloquently (or not so eloquently) to anyone they can corner, and who waits for the opportunity to shine. Always fun are the girls who brag about how drunk they are, the favored mating call of desperate college girls from coast to coast.

So when I saw the young, clean-cut, seemingly well-mannered husband stick is hand down his even younger wife's shirt and act as if he was hand-washing a sweater, I was caught off-guard. She, on the other hand, was not. She carried on conversation like ALL married couples went around fondling each other's nibbly bits in public. For a full five minutes he sloshed her boobies around while everyone continued being absorbed in their own alcohol-flooded worlds. I was flabbergasted. What in the hell was he trying to prove? And her! Just sitting there like he had done nothing more than give her a kiss on the cheek. What a deranged couple.

I did, for the most part, have a good time. I danced (poorly) to cliche 80's music, saw friendly acquaintances, schooled a few boys in air-hockey, and jumped in the USM fountain for the first time. I feel I am a little too old for such rites of passage, but I can't say I didn't enjoy the frivolity of it all.

Twilight Zone.

Tonight was just strange.

After hanging out with the neighbors and the three Frenchmen they had collected, I went to my friend Myke's barbecue. This would have been a totally fine and dandy time, except tonight was 'meet the girlfriend night.' Girlfriend is a wee-bit possessive (do you like how I downplayed that for sarcastic effect?) and Myke was a wee bit oblivious. I told him that she didn't like me and his response was 'We don't have those issues.' Riiiiiiiiiiiiiight. I wasn't very comfortable and so I left.

I came home and partied with the at the neighbor's place. Besides the Frenchmen, there was a Spaniard, a few Americans, Romina from Venezuela, and Robbie- the resident of said apartment. The Frenchies were very nice, hard to understand at times, but nice. I have to admit though, I was proven wrong tonight. I thought the story about French people having serious BO was a myth. It's not. They don't give a f*. Oh, and according to them "'Merican wine is sheet, just plain sheet; not real wine." Fair enough, I guess.

Then the local train-wreck twenty-year-old alcoholic stirred up some drama. She said someone raped her (I doubt it, but can't say for sure). His little group of loser friends showed up to make a point. Train-wreck got all dramatic and hell broke loose. Such crap. I just wanted to enjoy my little beer, hang out and listen to foreign languages, and meet some new people. As the Frenchies would say, "Sheet. Just sheet." Damn juvies.

Oh yeah, don't forget about the cops showing up. That was classic. All the young'ns were running for the bedrooms to hide from the cops while Mr. Bravado decided to go and tell the cops that everything is just fine. You know, there is always that one guy that is sure he can smooth things over. I felt like I was in high school again.

Anyways, I'm off to bed. I just needed to put this in writing so that when I wake up in the morning I'll know it really happened. My life is very quiet and the whole evening was just a little surreal.

Eso, Eso!

I finally started packing for my flight tomorrow at around 9:30 tonight. It has been a busy week and I had no motivation to be productive when I got home from work. The packing didn't last long however.

I stepped outside to get something from my car and saw that Fernando and all of the ELI kids were having a party upstairs. I went up with intentions of saying 'hello.' Fernando turned 27 at midnight so I hung out for a while. They are such a great bunch. They are from Venezuela and Japan. And of course, there are the gringo groupies. It is always a very jovial, relaxed atmosphere with this group. It really is a different feel than one would get at a gathering of Americans, where everyone is networking, gossiping, seeing how drunk they can get, and flirting.
I tried sake for the first time while I was there. I was surprised by how much I liked it. I was expecting it to have that sharp bite that you get when you drink cheap vodka. It was quite the opposite. In fact, it was about the smoothest alchohol that I could ever imagine drinking neat. I look forward to trying it the next time I have sushi (which will be soon, I hope).

Fernando gave a very endearing speech at midnight in three languages. He talked about how glad he was to have so many friends here and how much we all meant to him. He said that it was his best birthday ever. His broad smile said more than any of the languages could have told.

Good time all around.