Thursday, November 6, 2008

A Brief But Suggestive History of Cleo's Parties

Flat out - they are the stuff of legend, and anyone who's lived in Raleigh for any period of time has attended one, or knows someone who has. No, seriously. I've broken the ice at more than one gathering by discovering a fellow alumnus of her infamous 16th birthday. That was the party that set the bar for the rest. When we arrived at it her mom was hitting the beer bong (among other things), and she was in good company, which completely freaked out my nice Catholic girl friend Ms. Q and our hopelessly square and preppy escort. They totally cramped my style that night, dammit!

Ask Bea about the birthday dinner party where she had to sit in the shitty seats with my sister-in-love, a vile bitch of an English teacher, assorted sycophants and bizarros, and my older brother, who can put even the truly illiterate to shame when he chooses to. Oh my god - he jumped up and down on that teacher's last nerve, with his deliberate dumb redneck-isms, to the great delight of the rest of us. And the birthday party that I dragged Bea to, where we ended up outside (because Sweet Baby Jesus, it was Open Mic Night inside the party) hanging out with this pair of brothers who were talking FBI conspiracy theories, and how their dad had been on an insider track for something like Roswell or Hangar 54, or something like that. I kid you not, and they were (in my opinion) a delightful reprieve from the usual attendees of those parties; overly theatrical, gushing and patently insincere. The kind of people who bring me out in a Tourette's rash, and make me want to scratch my privates publically, just so they'll go away. Hey - don't judge - it works.

So I knew when we went to Cleo's birthday party this past month that something would happen, because come on - something always happens at her parties. Bea and I arranged to stay the night, so we could tie one on responsibly, We arrived armed with mighty pillows and a bottle of Captain Morgan. In retrospect, we really should have known better than to go with the Captain. He is a bad influence, and has caused me to walk on my ankles or worse, sing like Ethel Merman on more than one occasion, but take him we did.

There were some old familiar faces at the party and it was great fun to reconnect with them, but there were a few new faces, one of which was a guy who had been around Cleo's party circuit for awhile, but somehow we had never met him. He was cute, articulate, self employed, liked cats, and most importantly, single. He also took a shine to Bea. Once the Captain kicked in, I assumed the role of Drunk Buddha, and advised Bea that she "needed to go break a few rules" that evening. The not so drunk, and infinitely wiser Cleo handled the finer points of luring the proposed couple out on the deck, and clearing the house. Then, taking Drunk Buddha (me) by the hand, she went upstairs to wait it out. We giggled together sitting up in her room, just like old times.

Now the rest of this saga can only be related by Bea, as it is her story to tell. She has not been very forthcoming, seeing as how she is very firmly a nice girl, who immediately feels guilty for sins of the flesh, but she did write this recently, and this, so maybe I'm the bad influence, not just the Captain!

17 comments:

Vodka Mom said...

BAD influence? I think not. You merely pushed the raft and she happened to be on it.

(I love your writing.......)

bandick said...

Ooh - can't wait to see what happened...I'm a comin', princess hair!

Ben and Bennie said...

Arrrghh! Where was my invitation, matey? So Bea found the bootie, did she not?

Anonymous said...

I want to go to one of Cleo's parties. Please, oh please, oh please.

I promise to be "scratch my privates" if necessary, and let all the "right" people win at Quarters. I can hang.

Fun, fun post! I inhaled an M&M when I read that you walk on your ankles.

San Diego Momma said...

Any party where you come armed with "mighty pillows" sounds like a fun party indeed.

BUTTTT. I think any party you're attending would be fun. I just got that feeling :)

FairiesNest said...

...and a good time was had by all....nuff said!
Interestingly enough my word verification is ahic...hmmmm....

flutter said...

ok seriously, that sounds like a FUN party

A Free Man said...

Southern parties are the best, although there were some good ones in the Midwest in my time there.

Chanda (aka Bea) said...

With the Captain on board how could that last party be anything but epic. I'm holding him completely responsible for my "rule breaking". Though I think drunk Buddha has some 'splainin' to do as well. :)

Gypsy said...

Rules were made to be broken and all that.

And I'm on tenterhooks waiting for Bea to spill!

Anonymous said...

"The kind of people who bring me out in a Tourette's rash"

This is totally fabulous!!! Because it's so true!

Real Live Lesbian said...

What FUN! Spending the night with the Captain? Dangerous fun!

Anonymous said...

I'm so happy you commented on my blog because that led me to yours. I've enjoyed what I've read so far and I'll be back!

Madge said...

we all need a little time with the captain here and there. hope she had a great time.

Arizaphale said...

I haven't been to a party like this in ages and I miss the idea of them. I do NOT miss the hang overs but shit, I get them anyway....how's that fair? I hope my BA has parties 'like Cleo' when she is grown up. VERY grown up. 45 maybe......

♥ Braja said...

Honey I get the feeling that even unaccompanied by the Captain, you'd rock that joint. I laughed out loud today, thank you very much. I'm going to be a repeat offender...Come over and pay a vist...

hele said...

One day I want to experience having fun with you :)