When:
Sat July 9

Where:
Freakin' Beacon Hill

The metaphor for life's stubborn flailing against death couldn't be more blatant than the centerpiece of this house party: A hearse, with the back roof ripped off and red velvet seats, is parked in the backyard of this Beacon Hill home. The interior, its walls slathered with white shag, features couples squirming in and out of a gropetastic makeshift makeout space. DJ decks are laid out on the roof, and our hosts explain that in the next few weeks, a stripper pole will be welded to the hood. Dozens of people dance around the dazzling-white car, helping to further free the hearse from the grip of death.

Of course, to dance the Grim Reaper away, you need to wear some fabulous accessories. A chirpy bald man with sequins glued to his head is everywhere at once. Feather boas and fur coats appear from nowhere. Throughout the night, people pass a gold turban through the crowd: Its wearer, dubbed "the Haj," is hailed as instant royalty.

People dance on precarious benches and rock the hearse so hard that the music skips. Although the attendees perhaps use the word "energy" too often for comfort, the warmth is genuine. There are precious few situations where a complete stranger could get away with claiming that Party Crasher resembles a "midget Matt Damon"—damn lies!—and then envelop him in a hug, with all forgiven. A teddy bear, its face apparently chewed out, is lying on the ground, and in the presence of such mortality, there's no time to hold grudges. ■

Want the "midget Matt Damon" to crash your house party? E-mail the date, place, time, and party details to partycrasher@thestranger.com.