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Hangout Review
Jose’s Birthday Party
at a really fucking swank Chicago apartment
October 14, 2004
Lately, my life has been running thematically parallel with Curb Your Enthusiasm. I keep finding myself in strange uncomfortable situations that I don’t fully comprehend. The day of this party, I posted a story about a rather unsavory bowel movement I’d had, on a web ring, only to enrage several of the message’s recipients. It was gross, I’ll admit, but I thought I was in good company. Really, who hasn’t had a little poopie linger in their ass hairs? Ladies?
Continuing on, I brought a few Fran’s to give to the birthday boy and his fella. I hadn’t really counted on everyone at the party picking them up. Any exposure is nice, and as the editor-at-large, I suppose it’s my duty to rep the magazine whenever and wherever, but it’s hard to explain to people who just don’t get it, why a picture of Ben Affleck finger-banging himself in a leather jacket and clear, plastic stripper-pumps is funny. Furthermore, I hadn’t fully realized the arguably racist elements of our Cool Runningz piece. Three white kids in Cross-Colors gear, drinking forties walks the line. Even more so when one of them is named, Lil’ Whack Sambo. Once again, some people laughed, others frowned. C’est la vie! I didn’t break a sweat, but I’m no PR whiz either. I’m sure I was blushing a little when I told a mildly disgusted female partygoer, “well, we thought it was funny.”
This brings me to another social conundrum, when everyone who comes to a party brings a six or twelve pack, and then puts their beer in the fridge, is it a free-for-all? For instance, is it rude, say, if you bring a six-pack of Old Style talls, to grab a Guinness that somebody else brought? Is that why another attendant gave me strange glares as I drained the russet bottle and then rattled it around, trying to get a peek at the odd carbonating device that rolled around at the bottom? I don’t know.
I am glad that I refrained from telling the hosts that I admired the framed pin-up girl painting that hung over their toilet, as I thought it was an excellent idea to showcase such high-brow wank-art. My girlfriend argued that it was purely decorative, but to me it seemed like a brilliant idea, putting practical but tasteful porn on the bathroom wall. No more trying to balance a magazine on the rim of the sink while… yeah. Goodtimes.
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