There are two guys and a girl standing by the window in a small
apartment kitchen, burrowing holes into the bottoms of Hamm’s cans with
a set of car keys. They crack the seals, put their lips to the holes,
and chug their beers. One of the guys, Jason, downs his in about three
seconds. He explains the wonders of shotgunning, of starting the night
strong with a few beers in a few minutes: “If you have speed, then you
don’t need volume.” Jason is very, very good at drinking beer.
There is not much alcohol at this party, and it seems everyone in the
kitchen is trying to either hide the booze they brought or scam some
off of someone else. My High Life in the vegetable crisper does not
last long.
There is a dance party in an empty living room, celebrating the
departure of a roommate who used to call that space his bedroom. A few
people are wearing animal masks or horns. Host Christopher
explains that this was supposed to be an animal-themed costume party,
but hardly anyone dressed up. I ask why he is not wearing an animal
costume himself. “Oh, I’m a shaman,” he clarifies. “I call the animals.
That’s why I have this crazy ‘Doc Brown’ hair.”
A small couch is stationed inside an open closet, beckoning
drunken people to come and make out, but no one does. Instead, the
dance floor goes strong into the night, humans and animals bumping and
grinding and getting unexpectedly excited to shout along to “Whoomp!
(There It Is).” JEFF KIRBY
Want to distract The Stranger all night by inviting a girl
to your party who looks exactly like our heartbreaking college
girlfriend? E-mail the date, place, time, and party details to partycrasher@thestranger.com.