I had a big party for my 30th birthday party. We had a lot of parties, and we coined our party crew “club DAG.” We usually went to our friend, Rich’s house and had ragers on his mountain in Oroville (no time limit, live open music jams, camping out on 10 acres), but this time I wanted to do a street party, in town. My friends loaned me a warehouse on Del Paso Boulevard, and Rich and our crew (me, Gayla, Rich and Dan) got to work. We created New York City in 2 days. We built Time Square in one room, and Central Park in another. We built a fully lit-up, bar covered in mirrors in one room and, sold T-shirts with beer, wine and mixed drinks in another room. We built dancing cages and rented a PA system to put on a large stage in the big room for the D.J. It was an invite only party, so it wasn’t really crowded, just our friends attended.
Doink, a dark and strange punk-rock friend, designed some half-puff ruffle pants, similar to a bloomer, which we all customized with shiny fabrics to our own personal style, that another friend, Marilyn, sewed and made one pair for each of us that wanted to do the “Doink Dance”. Another friend, Cortny, choreographed an original hip hop dance for 5-6 of us to walk out fashion show style, and dance in a coordinated manner as the opener for the party. It went off well except Gayla hit her head on a speaker coming up from some sexy floor move, but no one but her and her throbbing head noticed. I invited Junior and Helmet from Prestige Portraits aka Lifetouch Senior Portraits division, where I worked at the time. Helmet brought her friend, Alissa, who was adorable in bright neon pink tights. I think they had a great time, but Junior had to leave early because most the girls had boyfriends and they were getting drunk and dancing with him, making their men grouchy. Junior bragged to our coworker Robert, the following Monday about the party, that it was like an MTV video with the dancing, fashion show and girls. He also liked my DJ, an awesome, hip Uncle who volunteered, and had people doing the humpy crab into the sky from the top of the metal cage we placed on the stage. I also saw another cousin in the middle of a lady sandwich in that same cage. That is completely irrelevant to the story, but must be noted. Cortny, the dance coordinator, but mostly just a friend, had just done some interior design work for a man she was newly dating, and asked me to come to the revealing party shortly after my birthday bash. She had asked Ginger (our pretty friend) first, but Ginger couldn’t make it, so she asked me (the fun friend). I didn’t feel like going to a party where I only knew one person, so I asked if it was alright if I brought a friend or two. No problem. I invited Helmet and told her to bring Alissa. I met Alissa at my party and she was very sweet. I wanted to get to know her. We went to the party, what did I bring? I grabbed the only thing anyone needs, some really great smoke in one pocket, pre-rolled, and a mixed CD of various hip hop artists in the other. Alissa, Helmet and I rode together. I drove. We arrived in the fancier East part of Sacramento and it was oddly quiet though there were a lot of cars parked in the street which forced us to park about a block away around the corner. I knew something was seriously wrong as soon as I stepped through the doorway. It was very crowded, but all of the boys/men had buttoned-up, pink matching shirts and were also wearing dress slacks with shiny work shoes. Did I miss a memo? Was this a Fortune 500 company meeting, or a party? The males were on one side of the room and the females were on the other side. There was no intermingling, though there must have been 100 people there at least. The girls were quiet, actually the whole place was quiet. No music was playing. Guests murmured among themselves in low tones. “I have to use the restroom.” Are you seriously ditching me already, Alissa? This is a creepy, scary movie, and now I’m stuck with just Helmet? Fine. I went to find food and alcohol with Helmet quietly mousing behind me. I found a food table, Hallelujah. It was stacked. These quiet, strangely separated females knew how to cook. There was a lone man dressed in a striped button up shirt, he was obviously a non conformist. “Eat that!” I ordered in a commanding voice pointing to some hummus that had a beer cap and some other strange items embedding within. He took the challenge, grabbed a big scoop of whatever was floating in there with a giant pita chip and ate it. “Drink that!” He pointed to a half full beer on the table with some odd food items floating around within, and I chugged it without a second thought. Alissa found us and played the eat and drink game for a bit with the striped shirt guy, until we got bored and we went to explore the kitchen because there was a little pile up of pink shirt men and females, and they were almost touching because it was crowded. That was where the alcohol was kept. This place was totally loaded, any drink you wanted to make or beer or wine was fully accessible and looked free for the taking. “Oh, Hello.” Cortny and the man were kind and greeted me and my guests. They provided us with libations and were oddly at peace in this weird place. I guess it was their house and their guests. I asked Alissa her opinion of why the place was so whacked. “It’s a Republican party,” she answered matter-of-factually. “My dad is a Republican, I’d know this crowd anywhere." “Are you a Republican?” I immediately turned and asked the young, good looking man (in a button up pink shirt) standing next to me. “Yes.” He just answered the question just like a regular person. No way, was Alissa right, that was the weirdest solution to the utter madness. I squeezed right into the middle of the crowded kitchen and asked a seemingly nice girl, “Are you a Republican?” “Of course, aren’t you?” was the smiling response from her scary, Stepford daughter face. Damn Alissa and her good sense. I had to get out of there. Helmet just quietly followed me and Alissa outside, as I needed to clear my mind (by turning into Cheech or Chong). We got back in my car and smoked with the windows rolled up, hot-boxing my little tan Nissan like we were back in high school perhaps in a church parking lot. A man who was trying to spy on us because he actually lived in the house where we were parked pretended he was doing productive things in his garage. We were somewhere near the Fab 50’s if you know Sacramento, so these people have money, and he was a stereotypical lookie-loo. “Put your titties on the glass,” I ordered Helmet. “No!” she started feeling a bit paranoid I’m sure, in this awkward environment. I was still a little sore from her accusing my Irish friend of being a rapist because he said, “I’d hit that,” to me in private and I shared it with her [thinking it was a compliment]. She wasn’t hot. I just wanted to mess with her a tiny bit, but her friend, and now one of my favorite people on the planet, Alissa, joined the game. “Just do it! Don’t be such a [p-word expletive]!” Helmet was really tripping out now, because we’re in a smoke filled car and the man is totally eyeballing us. Alissa and I couldn’t stop laughing but we all got out of the car and went back to the party. Yes, it was a bully moment, but Helmet was really starting to press my buttons with her strange behavior, and I worked with her at my regular photography employment, and also with her at my side job (for the accused dog/rapist, no less, who was a very good friend and not a rapist) and she lived in my grannie house. I was up to my ears in Helmet. By the time we returned to the party being nice time was over. It was still the same separated environment, nothing had changed except for us. I asked the man of the house where the stereo was and then popped my hip hop mix into it. Alissa cranked it up with me and we started dancing like psycho hipsters until the dance floor was mobbed with twerking Republican young ladies (before twerking was officially invented). “I love this song!” I heard one yell, as she grabbed her friends and they started getting nasty and low to some heavy bass beats. Pink buttoned up men lined up angrily against the wall with their arms crossed staring me and Alissa down like they wanted to fight. They should have thanked us. Their ladies were getting hot and actually having fun. The bell struck midnight and suddenly the party dissipated like it never happened. This must be a Republican thing because I hang with people that go full board until the sun comes up. Alissa, and I thanked the host, said goodbye to Cortny, who may still not forgive me for this, and left that scene forever. Since Helmet rented out the grannie house behind mine, Alissa could use the side gate and walk right by without saying a thing. After the Republican party Alissa and I became friends, and she and my husband found they shared the same twisted humor, the same taste in art and almost a birthday. Alissa would stop and chat with Dan or me in the back yard on her way to visit Helmet. This was unacceptable to Helmet. Alissa and Dan were in the midst of a conversation outside in the backyard and Helmet came storming out of her house like a jealous husband, crossed her arms and stared Alissa down as she approached them both. Dan said, “Hello,” to Helmet, but she did an angry eyed, smooshed lip, half nod at him and turned back to Alissa. Alissa was in trouble, though she didn’t notice or even seem to care. When Dan explained the odd backyard scenario to me during dinner, I told him how to shut her down. “Tell her to put her titties on the glass.” Yeah, this is how to make friends or how to slowly unfriend someone. Either way, who cares? It’s still funny (to me and Alissa). (To Be Continued) Part III Hot Tub and Broken Sculptures, "Does this give you Pleasure?" Part IV Crashing, Lying, Humping Machine and Disgrace at the Art Show Part V Angry Dance off at the Cabin in the Woods or Burned Mouse Bones Part VII The finale--”Ann, why you want to punch a [special] person,” Thai mom accent or Apologize to my Dog
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