The People You Meet In Drinking Parties (part 1 of 2)

Yesterday, I swung by a birthday party thrown for one of my high school buddies. Now, since most of the people I hung out with in high school were in attendance, and because of the diversity as far as the types of people who attend these things would go is astonishing, I had a field day observing them so I could profile them on my blog for the purposes of entertainment and making said people feel chagrined if and when they finally stumble upon my post.

Although I wasn’t really in a drinking mood last night, the good news was that I was able to sit the entire thing out while making keen observations on the people who attended like a male, overweight Jane Goodall observing really drunken chimps of all shapes and sizes.

Here are some of my favorite types:

The guy who gets shitfaced before everyone else is even tipsy
This guy is the party’s go-getter in the sense that his sole motivation and inclination is to consume as much alcohol as humanly possible with little to no regard for how it’s going to end up for him.

Typically, this is the guy who has already consumed 5 bottles of beer and a couple of shots of tequila in the same amount of time it takes normal people to finish one bottle of beer and half a bag of chips.

Social drinking? What the fuck is that? This guy “socially” double fists a 500ml bottle of beer and a glass of rum at any given time during the party.

No, he hasn’t “had enough to drink” what the fuck are you? Queer? Besides, Brian is going to drive him home. He’s also totally going to vomit on Brian’s car’s upholstery and it’s going to be totally fine with him. They’re really good friends, you see.

Any party with this type of character present usually ends with the guy passing out on the table and somebody saying: “I think it’s time we all go home. Can somebody please take [Guy who gets shitfaced before everyone else is even tipsy’s name]”

Everyone is sad.

Except me of course, because I’m chatting up some random drunk girl, checking out her cleavage and regaling her with stories of my imaginary wealth.

The Douchebags whom pretty much all of the other guys in the party hate.
These are the guys who come to parties just so they can show off their tight-fitting, vertically-striped shirts which, of course, have the top buttons unbuttoned to reveal their chiseled pecs; their perfectly styled hair and their clean sneakers.

Any other guy in the party with an IQ above 50 and any girl who has a modicum of taste and class shake their heads in disgust at these guys but sadly, the people who matter to me (i.e. the really hot, albeit dumb girls) go ape shit crazy over these d-bags.

I mean come on people. I know how some girls can be really superficial but I would think that if I’m some dumb chick, I’d be thinking along the lines of “I know I’m not the sharpest tool in the shed and the only thing I have going for me is my looks. Now, with that in mind, I think I should probably hook up with someone smart and successful—you know? Someone with enough intellectual acuity to know that the Heisenberg Uncertainty Principle isn’t a food item? If I do this, at least there’s going to be a good chance that my kids are going to be intelligent and wouldn’t have to suck cocks in bars to get drinks like I do.”

But sadly, I guess that’s really never what hot girls think in real life. So, if I Intend to attract women of that ilk, I think I need to pump some iron, buy gallons of hair wax and shop at The Gap or something.

The fat chick
Pretty self-explanatory. I avoid them at all costs. You should too.

The guy with an acoustic guitar but can’t play nor sing for shit
Because the acoustic guitar is somewhat of a novelty in real parties, this character, usually manages to attract people’s attentions and make them gather around him hoping that a wicked jam session will ensue.

The wheels fall apart almost as soon as this guy strums the first chord. He’ll usually get to the first three chords of Radiohead’s “Creep” before messing up and trying out different chords because he can’t remember what the next one is.

This is usually followed by a question for everyone listening, something like “That sounds about right doesn’t it?” before giving up and playing the intro of yet another song, usually a pop song that is getting a lot of air play.

This is enough to sustain the crowd’s attention for another 5 minutes until he struggles through the first verse of Jason Mraz’s “I’m yours” and his shit gets old.

Most of the time, I try to rectify the situation by prying the guitar away from this guy and busting out a perfect “Master of Puppets” by Metallica. At this point though, sadly, the only ones usually left in the table are fat chicks who are giving me polite applause while I dejectedly glance over the next table where the hot girls have begun playing drinking games with the douchebags.

The Comedian
This category is where I fall under. Armed with a vast arsenal of sure-fire jokes, the comedian’s oft –short-lived act can either be an extremely amusing and funny experience for the crowd or a really awkward, uncomfortable one. It’s the latter most of the time for me. Fuck my life.

The Unattractive girl who starts looking quite okay after a few bottles of beer
I really don’t want to talk about this type. It’s too soon.

To be continued…

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