Topic: A Party!

I used to love parties. Back then, “party” actually meant “distort my perception of reality”, as much as possible and by any means possible. The example that comes to mind is an after-work pool party one evening at the Days Inn where I was a desk clerk at age 19. I had 10 hits of blotter acid. I had taken one, to mighty fine effect, when I was pushed into the pool. To my way of thinking at that moment, the only logical course of action was to immediately eat the other 9, before all the active ingredients washed away. I think I saw God, who told me to stop doing acid.

With age it gradually became obvious that most people seemed pretty content with reality as it presented itself to them. They went to parties to socialize and enjoy the company of friends and family.

This was a problem for me. After I stopped doing all those mind-altering things I found out that I’m painfully shy. So I got to where I just avoided party-type gatherings whenever possible.

Then I met my wife. She’s totally extroverted in every possible way. This meant that I was going to have to get used to going to gatherings whether I felt like it or not - she goes to all sorts of things.

One of the first functions I attended was a family get-together, a birthday party for her brother. I was nervous because I knew I would meet her siblings, her dad and a lot of her friends. I decided to wear a t-shirt of which I’m particularly fond. It says, “How Dare I Wear This Goddamn Shirt In Front Of Your Fucking Kids?” I figured it would sort of break the ice.

So we walked into the party and I immediately felt immensely self-conscious. It was that goddamn shirt. I felt that all eyes were on me. Everyone was very nice and everything but I couldn’t tell if they disapproved of the t-shirt. At any rate we had a very nice time.

Afterward, Bridgid reassured me that everything was fine and that no one had been offended. Her family is very liberal and open-minded and very difficult to offend. But I still wonder if maybe I didn’t go a little too far.