This marks the second year Party Crasher has covered Chris and Keri's S&M party. The "S&M" doesn't stand for anything kinky, although sangria and maki have been known to lead to some questionable behavior. The sangria is delicious and there are gallons of it. The sushi, however, has been devoured by the time I arrive, which is mildly devastating. This is to be the final S&M party; Chris has landed a job in New York working at a think tank for the UN. This party is a send-off, and accordingly, Chris is getting stinko.
There's an experimental noise band playing in the backyard, droning in the twilight. Chris starts blasting Fela Kuti records out of the top-floor window. For a while, the two battle each other for backyard sonic dominance, the ambient noise and beats moving in and out of phase with the record. Eventually, the band becomes an extension of the African rhythms and they coexist. Someone readies the ceremonial S&M machete and a couple of watermelons. In the dark, the melons are lobbed at Chris and he chops them in twain. A drunkard gets ahold of the machete and begins tossing big chunks of melon in the air to himself, trying to cut them down, flailing around with the blade. This is some of that aforementioned "questionable behavior." Chris is dancing upstairs by the stereo, chanting lyrics out the window. The night is warm and there's still plenty of sangria. It is a fond farewell to two fine Seattle partyers. Best of luck in the big city. JEFF KIRBY
Want to vent to The Stranger about the hardships of digging ditches in Bellevue? We've always got an open ear. E-mail the date, place, time, and party details to firstname.lastname@example.org.