PARTY-PT.2

I knew I was going to be drinking a lot. I couldn't refuse a drink from anyone. If someone offered me something, to take a shot with them, or just share a beer, I was in. I mean its my twenty first, right?

As my two American dudes came through, I knew things were going to get started. Firstly, Nick, was wearing a plaid shirt with shorts that are hard to explain except he defined them as his "Woody Harrelson shorts. From White Men Can't Jump" After he said that to me I knew that was going to be a great night.

Within a matter of minutes, the place got flooded with folks. The Americans arrived in sets of three and the Italians arrived, what seemed to be, in one giant group. I was posted over by my Ipod and the speakers with the hard alcohol while the Italians had the kitchen and the wine.

Italians are more into sipping the wine, talking about their respective soccer teams and cites, cigarettes, and the art of plucking eyebrows. Americans on the other hand want to get drunk as quickly and violently as possible while dancing furiously. I was going back and forth between the two groups. I would get the occasional random Italian guy who obviously came for the free drinks and well dressed girls but decided to wish me a happy birthday.

It seemed like folks who I never saw drink before were going after it. Ivan, whom I used to live with, decided it was his birthday and was pounding vodka like he was a soldier back in WWII. I had seen him drink wine only but he was nuts tonight. I think he was feeling some of the American girls. I think Andrea was too. Shit, I know I was.

At one point, Francesca and Vittoria told me to kill the music and they called for everyone's attention. Then everyone sang happy birthday to me and my close Italian friends presented me with a present. It was a jersey and shorts of the local pro basketball team called Fortitudo. It has the year the team was founded and a giant eagle which is their logo. Super fresh. They also got a disney card that has Belle and Cinderella on it that says: "You're marvelous!" in Italian along with a picture of me after I got hot pepper in my eye. (That was a disaster. Can't speak of it)

As I was heading back to the Ipod, these four Italian girls came up to me and said Happy Birthday and introduced themselves. They were friends of Luigi's. They asked me if they could choose the next song so I gave them the Ipod. At this point, you had to turn sideways and almost do the Robot to get through the crowds. It was packed. Before I even reached the other side of the room the music stopped. Folks were yelling for me. I headed back to the Ipod and it was frozen. Then, all the songs got deleted. These girls had manged to f*ck up. Big time.

I was feeling great. Had the drinks in the system, just got a great present, and things were going smoothly. Now this. I took the ipod and retreated to my room to figure things out. Sure I was worried about the party and how it would go downhill without music but, to be honest, I was more worried about the 6 Harry Potter's I have on tape and how I might have to kill someone at my own party.

I plugged the ipod in the computer, hit restart and waited. Windows welcomed me, I was told my virus protection had expired and I was in "immediate danger" and then Itunes came up. And then, it all came back.

I unplugged, walked back out the party and felt like Wayne and Garth: GAME ON!!! From there the party continued until about 3 in the morning. Folks were still drinking and, to my shock, all the tuna sandwiches were gone. I noticed there were three huge bowls of homemade sangria. I knew we didn't make those and went to find Luigi and ask him what the deal was. It turned out that nobody came to the party at #18. They threw in the towel and decided to bring all their alcohol to our party. DAMN.

As folks were parting I got all the words from the drunks. "Great farty, rappy birthday!" And then there were the people who say if I need help cleaning up tomorrow, to call them. Uh huh. Sure. They just get credit for the offer when they know damn well they wouldn't come back and help tomorrow. I think I would have preferred someone to say "Wow. Your place is f*cked up. Its a mess. And you know what? I'm not going to help you clean up. Peace" Now that would be real.

After everyone left me and my Italian guys (and girls) stuck around and just gave a recap of the night. The place looked worse than Alicia Dantzker's bedroom. Some folks got real ambitious and started sweeping and mopping right there. Twas great. I said goodnight to everyone at 5:05 and headed off to bed.

Happy Birthday, Mr. King