Where: U-District, North and South
When we arrive at this party, it's very clear that the place is crowded. People are spilling out of the house, and a girl walks up to a member of our posse, drunkenly mistaking him for her friend. We edge our way inside, past the host who is DJing on a laptop, and eventually through to the backyard, which is teeming with more hipsters, frat boys, and young alcoholics than a Medeski, Martin and Wood concert.
There are premonitions of an imminent police bust based on the sheer volume of attendees, so it's no surprise when the cops show up about 10 minutes after we arrive. It is a Party Crasher first, however, and we reflect on that as we scram into a back alley. Different people, all claiming to know where the party is moving, approach us--one of whom suggests a decrepit abandoned shack in the alley, but no one will go in with him.
We eventually choose to follow a small group to a house and walk south to get there. When we arrive, it's just college kids sitting on a couch, smoking from a hookah. Disturbed and Mos Def pound from a CD player that keeps skipping and is on the receiving end of multiple curse words as a result. This is moderately amusing, but we sit in the corner and commence a game of drunken Scrabble (Party Crasher spells POX on a triple word score tile, scoring a resoundingly amazing 36 points). Someone announces that it is actually an hour later than we think it is, because of daylight-saving time, and Party Crasher departs, emerging into an early dawn.
Want The Stranger to crash your house party? E-mail the details--time, date, address, etc. --to firstname.lastname@example.org.