Friday night at the Greek’s and he’s like, “c’mon man, lets go to my uni party man. It will be great.” And I’m like “look dude, I’m not usually up for crashing official events.”
House parties are ok, see also wedding, work parties and other assorted events. Official events can smack of lameness, but in this instance I make an exception – “I’ve had a few drinks dude, why not?”
After a bit of procrastination we eventually rock up and it’s kind of like I expected. Finance masters students wearing sharp suits, casting furtive glances at the their business studies lady counterparts, that dance in groups, sometimes round piles of designer handbags. A large group of Norwegian drunks marauding it on the dance floor, spilling pints and trampling ankles in some kind of tenuous homage to their Viking anscestors. The Greek running around kissing girls on the cheeks in response to their squeals of delight – attempting a quick Sean Paul grind with the lucky few……. And me, bopping to Aretha Franklin records, gradually building my stack of empty beer bottles, slowly gathering my exuberance before training a load of chinese nationals how to appreciate the good Reverend Al Green, before getting the now paralytic Greek home relatively safe.