I am sitting here at 4.30 on a Sunday arvo and my gut is still churning. My head is vacant, and my mouth tastes like a garbage lid.
Why you ask?
Well, let me start this story 2 weeks ago. With my hosts, I was invited to the house of someone who used to live where I am staying, and now lives just up the road. It was a small dinner party. Just us, and another family. Now, this other family was very nice, father, mother and 2 kids (around 18 (f) and 20(m)) . So, we had a nice evening. The conversation flowed and as the night went on we noticed that Braxton (the father) was quite a character. He spoke with an interesting accent, almost half English, but he was very funny and witty and along with his son, he had us in stitches most of the night with fun stories.
So, just before we left, I gave my contact details to the daughter with the promise that I would be invited to a party that they were throwing in a couple of weeks.
Coolo! You see I have promised myself that I would not turn down any invites that i am given while I am here, so the more parties the better!
2 days later on the Monday I received an email from Braxton, inviting me to the shindig. It was to be a Mardi Gras party where costume was required.
Ok, no worries, I can work out something to wear in 2 weeks can’t I?
Yeah, right. 2 weeks came and went, and I didn’t do a damn thing about a costume did I? i shopped around a little yesterday whilst trying to decide whether I would even go or not. In the end, I thought I should live by my promise and I slapped on some clothes and headed up at around 8 (the party was supposed to start then, but hey, I could be fashionably late).
So, I metro’d over to the city and walked through Georgetown. I ended up walking all of the way over to the house which took about an hour. My plan was to skulk around and stake out the joint first before going in just to make sure I wasn’t going to be the only guy not in costume, and also to see what sort of crowd was there. So I checked out the place and watched a couple of people go in, and then when a couple of guys headed up there I decided to follow them in as well.
So there I was in a party with probably around 80 people and I knew 5 of them. Before the bricks in my pants grew too large, I thought I’d better head for the food and drink.
And this party was awesome. There was food. And I’m not talking about your cheese square and cabanossi. We’re talking plates and platters of oysters, prawns and sushi. This stuff was amazing. I couldn’t stop eating it. It was tasty shit. I also came across the bar. There were waiters delivering food around the house, and also barmen serving drinks with a huge array of grog. I went and saw ‘Good Night and Good Luck’ yesterday (review coming later!) so I was inspired to drink scotch. So, with scotch in hand I went to meet this array of masked people.
As the waft of wacky tobacky floated through the house I met a whole bunch of different people who were all exceptionally nice. I met a guy from Zimbabwe, another from Uganda and then I met the actual ‘Patch Adams’ (yeah, the one that Robin Williams played). He has long white hair and an awesome moustache
I was talking cricket with the guy from Zimbabwe which was very cool, and meanwhile I was downing the scotches pretty regularly. Even the barman knew what I was drinking when I walked up and a black dude was suitably impressed at what I was drinking and shook my hand.
I must have met around 15-20 people last night. The thing is, I suck at names and I can’t remember most of them, but I remember faces a lot better.
Anyway, the night travelled along well and I was enjoying chatting to everyone and then it was announced that we should all move off the rugs. Then they rolled back the rugs to reveal the wooden floor boards. The disco lights were warmed up and the music started to pump. It was like a nightclub and everyone got involved. Everyone danced and partied hard, except for a small intermission when someone slipped and hit their head in the kitchen and an ambulance was called. (that can put a downer on things!). We danced. We drank, and then in the wee hours, all the guys took their shirts off (the waiters had already taken theirs off) and I don’t remember much after that.
I do, however, remember heading downstairs and throwing up all of that lovely sushi, oysters and prawns into the toilet except for the bits that got on my jeans. Yes. Lovely.
So, I ended up crashing on the floor with my head on a beanbag and tried to sleep just as I saw the early morning rays peeking through the window. I don’t think I got much sleep. Maybe an hour. Maybe not.
It was a hell of a party and i was informed that Braxton throws these sorts of shindigs on a pretty regular basis. I think he might be a good person to know!
So, that was my night. I’m glad I went! Although my stomach probably doesn’t agree with me….
Tomorrow? The Wrestling!