The two party scenes I already wrote are listed below. They are close to “stage-ready” but could use some work. One is fairly normal party where the highlight is when the main characters are blowing goldfish crackers at one another. The other is a pretentious spoiled musical theater / artist party that is very specific, but I think everybody can relate somewhat.
Kensington Drive runs adjacent to Drury St. and Manchester Ave, and that 5-way intersection is where you find the bars and late night junk food. Kensington eventually runs through the middle of the campus and it is entirely residential. The police cruise around either end of the road to snag drunk drivers, but rarely disrupt the parties. Parked cautiously far from any light source, we couldn’t look any more suspicious without whistling with our hands in our pockets. We follow the noise and push our way tight-lipped through a pulsing thumping living room full of attractive people who won’t let go of the conversation-friendly formation forged before the iPod was plugged into the speakers. “A good easy first crash” I thought as I followed somebody carrying empty bottles to the cooler full of beer and a three foot wide plastic bowl of pizza flavored Goldfish snacks that appear to be shivering on a rattling glass table with a chip off one corner. Geoff is respectfully taking the roundabout way, but I am barely chewing handful after handful. I wait for him to approach and then stuff my mouth so I can blow shards of cracker at him as I say, “Great fuckin’ party!” He chuckles but the previously unseen dude he was talking to clinches his eyebrows at me. I reach slightly towards him as though to brush him off even though nothing landed on him as I explain, “Shit, sorry! I mean, I did intentionally blow crackers but I was totally kidding, y’know?” His lack of discernible neck gives the impression of perpetual shrugging, but he pumps his shoulders up anyway and says “OK” while looking angry and walking past me. I yell into Geoff’s ear, “He seemed nice…” “I guess some people don’t like having crackers blown on them, even if it’s ironic.” Somehow Geoff can deadpan even when music is way louder than his voice. Cheap beer, lame snack food, and humorless people. This neighborhood was full of alternatives, so we bolted.
I noticed some expensive outfits speaking loudly yet with very proper diction, clear pronunciation, and great consideration of every emphasized syllable. Actors? Music majors? Rich parents either way. Unfortunately a bit more organized, but at least we are dressed the part. We follow two well fed men in immaculate black pea-coats through the gate to the back yard. Oblivious to our presence they slide shut the glass door to the living room, and we see burbury scarves flourish onto the coat couch as we open bottles of a fine German import and exaggerate the hell out of whatever we’re saying next to the firepit. Musical theater party. I said to Geoff, “I’ll say I’m here with Sara and you say you’re here with me, then start complimenting things before they ask any questions. Your typical musical theater major is more insecure than an anorexic with barbecue sauce stuck to their cheek at a high school reunion.” This wasn’t really my plan, but I dated a musical theater major last year and maybe I’m still a little bitter. We follow a large group of people in and start a new coat pile. I threw my coat down and ran into the kitchen with a bright smile and said hi to three people. In retrospect this was a good tactic because it would seem that I was excited to be at a party with people I know, but my behavior was less tactical and more of a sincere reaction to the food table. Gourmet cheese, white bean dip, sopressata…
That’s where I left off. Here are a bunch of sentences that were at the end, some are ideas or themes, others are possible quotes to include in other scenes. Not sure really, wrote it a while ago.
We were caught. They seemed to want us to stay just so they have somebody to hate more than each other and more worthy of derision than themselves.
They’d all rather be listening to Sublime in somebody’s garage
“I hate it when a girl takes me back to her place for sex and her place isn’t organized!”
“Have you ever let a girl pee on you? It really makes you appreciate the whole of a girl’s anatomy, really gives you a grander perspective on it. I think every man who calls himself heterosexual should have this illuminating experience.”
“This has been a real learning experience for me. I realize it hasn’t exactly been a picnic for you, but maybe you can appreciate the fact that I most likely won’t do this again.”