It’s that time again!
Pigeon season ladies and gents! And last week was no exception.
I was unable to hide my surprise and disdain when I received a text from one Mr. Know-it-all who, ironically, knew nothing about me.
Mr.K.I.A “Hey, was talking to a friend of mine and your name came up (only good things of course), wanted to invite you to an apartment party tomorrow night, would love if you could come.”
I guess he has progressed from voice mails to texts (or downgraded?)
I decided to accept the invitation because I assumed there would be a nice amount of eligible bachelors at this party, I was certain to meat at least one who I could find everlasting happiness with.
Alas, just more blog material folks…
I snagged a ride to the party with a good friend of mine from high school, as we rang the doorbell to the apartment I took notice of the 2 names printed under the peep hole.
Obviously I dated both of them and was now attending a party being hosted in their apartment.
Is this some kind of cruel joke? I wondered to myself in vain.
Yes, yes it was.
I figured I’d simply make the most of the situation. Besides it wasn’t as though I had a relationship with either of them. One date each I think it was, and with good reason.
As we stepped into the apartment, it dawned on me that we were extremely early AND that I was the only female in attendance.
Hmmmm… Just what kind of party is this exactly? And should I be afraid for my virginity?
I stuck very close to my high school friend and ate some chocolate to calm my nerves- hey, at least they knew to supply the party with chick food.
Soon after I got more comfortable and began talking to a couple of the guys at the party, finally some more girls arrived and the party got underway.
At one point Mr. Know it all offered me a drink, I requested a shot of straight up alcohol because my throat had been bothering me earlier and I figured that the alcohol would sterilize whatever impending illness I may have contracted. He looked at me with an impressed smile on his face as we clinked our shot glasses.
I kept mingling and talking to people at the party. There were some really interesting people there from all walks of life. Suddenly I ran into Mr. Know -it-all’s friend from the text message he sent (see above).
Friend: Oh I’m so happy you came! You know we were debating for 3 days wether or not to invite you tonight.
Me: (UMMMMMMMM thanks??) Haha well I’m glad I made the cut.
Friend: Yea we take these parties really seriously and we just weren’t sure how you would affect the dynamic of the party.
Seriously? What is wrong with these people? Did they sit down and make a guest list and discuss wether each person would fit in well with the “dynamic”? What does that mean? WHO does that? And more importantly why was my invitation debated upon for 3 days?
I wasn’t sure if I should be flattered that they decided to invite me or insulted that they had to sit around discussing it for half a week. I went with the latter.
Then Mr. Know-it-all comes over to add HIS two cents.
Mr.K.I.A: I just wanted to tell you that I am very pleased with your performance thus far.
Me: Umm, I didn’t realize I was being graded.
Pleased with my performance ? Thus far? What the heck is this an audition? And who says thus in everyday vernacular?
Mr.K.I.A.: Yea well you seem to be handling yourself very well and I was so impressed when you asked for a shot earlier. You’re doing really well.
I‘m so pleased my alcoholism is finally being appreciated.
Me: Is this some kind of test? Am I being rated or something?
Mr.K.I.A.: Yep, after everyone leaves we make a list of names and write up how they scored and then we post it on the door.
Yet ANOTHER reason why I will never date him.
So basically I was debated about for 3 days and then put on display like some kind of show dog.
I half expected someone to point at me and start yelling “dance monkey dance!”
Then these idiots sat around observing my behavior and rating it. Pleased with my performance thus far indeed! What is this? Some kind of strange hobby? How bored are they with their lives that this is what they find entertainment in?
I started to text someone about the ridiculousness of it all when the friend pipes in. He pointed to the barely noticeable chip in the corner of the nail of my index finger and said…
Friend: You really should do something about that.
Me: Yea it just chipped today- so annoying.
Friend: Chipped nails on a girl is the biggest turn off in the world. It makes me cringe, you should take all your nail polish off.
Me: Seriously? (sidebar the rest of my nails were perfect)
Friend: Its a really big pet peeve of mine. This is probably why I’m still single hardy har.
Me: Sooooo not the only reason.
Despite passing this imaginary test that I was administered, I was not nearly as jubilant as one might think. I was subjected to scrutiny by men I had dated and literally auditioned for a role which I would never want (mainly because I’m not entirely sure what it would be). It’s no wonder they are all still single.
All in all, a wonderful night for blog material.