I remember my housewarming party like it was yesterday. It was a very fun night at the end of June 2010. I looked at my Jerks of the Week archive pages and was disappointed to find that I didn't publish an entry about it. Some of the highlights from that night include...
1. There was this hot brunette chick I was interested in at the time. I met her at my friend Wild Ginger's graduation party a few weeks earlier. She sat at my table. I never actually said a word to her because she was there with a black guy whom I presumed to be her boyfriend, but she added me as a friend on Facebook later that evening. I invited her to my housewarming party, and she actually showed up without the black dude this time. We got to talking on my couch, and she asked to see my phone. She had to leave a bit after that.
Me: Nooooo! It's still early!
Hot Brunette: Ugh, I know, but I have work super early tomorrow. Call me sometime though.
Me: What's your number?
Hot Brunette: I gave it to you.
Me: What? When? I don't remember this.
Hot Brunette: I put it into your phone.
Me: Really? When did you do that?
Hot Brunette: Umm... when I asked to see your phone...
I was worried that Hot Brunette thought I was a complete imbecile, but we hung out a couple of times after that. The black guy from before, who indeed turned out to be her boyfriend, would go on to send me threatening messages on Facebook, which can be seen if you click the link.
2. Many of the rooms in my house weren't furnished at this point. This includes the guest bedroom. There was literally nothing in there prior to that night, but one of the things I did before the party was drive over to American Signature Furniture and buy the cheapest futon they had there.
I spent $150 on this ugly brown futon, but it was money well spent because a friend of mine who attended the party that night is a complete man whore and will sleep with any woman. The futon was especially for him; in fact, I told him to use that in advance. If I hadn't, he would've undoubtedly used my own bed, which would then be contaminated with God knows what.
My friend did indeed use the futon. The next day, I looked at it, and I noticed a white stain. I'm pretty sure it's still there.
3. My sister created a registry for my housewarming party, listing a bunch of things I needed for my new house. This proved to be useful for the most part, but there are some items I haven't even opened yet. For instance, when my friend Hot Stuff texted me and asked if I had a wine opener I could bring to her own housewarming party, I was confused.
"What's a wine opener? I thought you just twist the bottle cap to open the wine," I asked.
Hot Stuff explained what a wine opener looked like, so I told her I'd look around my kitchen. Sure enough, I located an unopened box that said "wine opener" just sitting next to my toaster. I've passed by this box for nearly three years, yet I didn't even notice it once.
I told Hot Stuff I'd bring the wine opener over to her new condo that night. However, I still didn't have a housewarming gift for her, so I texted my sister and asked her what sort of wine I should buy for Hot Stuff. Her answer was something like this: "Blush wine. A white zinfandel."
I know absolutely nothing about wine, if you couldn't already tell. Nevertheless, I got into my car and drove to the local Wine & Spirits store...
I've always ignored the wine section of the Wine & Spirits store. I usually just head straight for the vodka, gin, rum or whiskey. However, half the store is dedicated to wine.
I marveled at how many types of wine there were. I figured it was like vodka - you have your Smirnoff, Skye, Vlad***, Three Olives, Grey Goose and a few others. I thought there might be 10-15 brands of wine, but as I quickly discovered, that was hardly the case.
*** Note: I have a bottle of Vlad in my house. I have no idea who brought it over or how it got there, but it hasn't been opened for a couple of years. I keep putting it on my kitchen counter to see if anyone will touch it, but no one ever does. Not that I blame them. I mean, if you can get a handle of this type of vodka for like 99 cents, it can't possibly be good, right?
Anyway, the entire wall on one side of the store had countless shelves of various wines. There were hundreds of different wines. I had no idea where to find a white zinfandel. The name sounded German to me, so I perused the German wine section. I had no luck there, so I checked the French wines. After that, the imported wines. Nothing.
As I kept browsing, I noticed something very strange. Every wine bottle was priced between $10 and $20. At first, I thought I was just looking at Vlad-caliber wines, but I couldn't locate a single wine more than $20. I was prepared to drop anywhere between $50 and $75 on a bottle of wine for my friend, so I was shocked that I'd have to spend so little.
That begs the question - what is up with these wine snobs if you can purchase most bottles so cheaply? I figured these douches were so into wines because they were classy and expensive, but yet they don't even cost as much as vodka, gin, rum and whiskey. In that case, why aren't there vodka snobs? Why are there no rum-tasting conventions? Why doesn't anyone discuss how a particular gin complements a meal? Where do these wine-worshipping idiots come from?
Anyway, I was happy about the wine price, but my frustration grew as I failed to locate the white zinfandel after checking each shelf twice. I hate asking for help in stores, but I wasn't prepared to spend my entire afternoon in Wine & Spirits. I turned around to look for a worker when I saw it - another row of wines with one section labeled "white zinfandels." I felt incredibly stupid.
These "white" zinfandels weren't any more expensive than the other wines, but there was just one issue - these wines were all red.
I was so confused. If a wine bottle label says "white zinfandel," but it's really red, did the manufacturer make a mistake? If not, and it's really supposed to be red, shouldn't it be a "red zinfandel?" There wasn't a section for red zinfandels in the store, so perhaps they grouped the white zinfandels and the red zinfandels together.
All of the zinfandels were red, and none of them said "Blush Wine" on the label, so I just grabbed the prettiest red zinfandel wine bottle - at a cheap price of $16.99 - and brought it to the register. The cashier asked if I found everything OK, and I explained to him that I was searching for white zinfandels, but the closest thing I could find was a red zinfandel. He stared at me with a look of disbelief and then just shook his head.
I'm glad he agreed with me that wines are stupid. He apparently had the same issue I did when buying a gift for his own friend's housewarming party.
2. CVS Drunk:
Considering that I was prepared to spend $50-$75 on a bottle of wine, I didn't think $16.99 was nearly enough for a housewarming present. There's a CVS close to the Wine & Spirits store, so I went there to buy a gift card. I had to buy a congratulatory card for Hot Stuff anyway, so I was killing two stones with one bird, as Emmitt Smith would say.
Nothing weird happened at the CVS, save for me constantly bumping into this chubby woman. I must have done this five times. No matter where I turned, she was there, and I'd always have to say "excuse me" as I walked by her. But that's nothing compared to what happened as I left the store.
I walked out of the CVS with a Bed, Bath and Beyond gift card in hand, when a kid of about 17 approached me.
It didn't take me long to realize that this kid was either high or drunk out of his mind. He was wearing a white wife beater and strange white pants with his fly unzipped. He stumbled toward me and had drool coming out of his mouth.
As tempting as it was, I didn't want to risk getting into trouble buying a pack of cigarettes for a completely intoxicated kid. And that's the part I don't get - this kid managed to somehow get drunk and/or high in the middle of the afternoon, yet he couldn't manage to get his hands on cigarettes? How does that happen?
Then again, we live in a world where white zinfandels are really red, so nothing really makes sense anymore.
3. Facebook Event Posting:
I never manage to receive Facebook event invitations anymore because Mark Zuckerberg is an a**hole who changed the e-mail settings. Hot Stuff told me early on to accept her Facebook invite, so I was alerted of this event page.
Hot Stuff asked everyone what they were going to bring to her party. Here was my response:
I was just joking, but my friend Pat added a link under my post of an actual cake car that people can jump out of. Buying that sounded tempting - in fact, it was too tempting. As a fat man, I would have eaten the car cake while waiting to burst out of it. And then there would've been no surprise.
Meanwhile, the girl I like to call Busty Female posted something much more interesting:
OK, before you get excited, that turned out to be completely false advertising. And I'm not even talking about the "ravishing her body" part, which by the way, might count as sexual harassment***. I'm referring to the mozzarella sticks. Oh, there were mozzarella sticks at this party, but by the time I got there, all of the marinara sauce was gone. This completely devastated me. I planned on eating at least a dozen mozzarella sticks while double dipping them George Costanza style into the marinara sauce. Now, my night was completely ruined.
*** Note: I have an opinion on sexual harassment. I believe that laws against sexual harassment are destroying this country. It's true. Now, I'm not saying I believe women should be sexually harassed at work - unless I'm doing the harassment, of course - but in the olden days, when a co-worker grabbed a woman's a** or touched her breast, she would call upon her husband, boyfriend, father, brother or unfortunate lad stuck in the friend zone to beat up this co-worker. And once that happened, everything was fine.
Now there are lawsuits going on all the time, which cost companies millions. And how do these companies make up these millions? By jacking up the price of whatever they're peddling. This screws over the consumers, who may not be able to keep up with mortgage payments because they're spending too much money buying those products. With fewer people keeping up with mortgage payments, lots of houses go into foreclosure, and thus our economy sucks. In the end, isn't it just better for a guy to get beaten up if he sexually harasses a woman?
In the end, mozzarella sticks weren't eaten, and no bodies were ravished. Thought the latter nearly happened...
4. Stripping Situations:
I finally made it to Hot Stuff's house. I handed her my card, the wine and the wine opener box, but I apologized for the white zinfandel being a red zinfandel. She laughed and said it was OK. Phew. That was a relief.
Given that I was screwed out of eating mozzarella sticks, I settled for pizza. I scarfed down four slices almost instantly, and then we played some drinking games. I don't know why it happened, but Pat suddenly took off his pants and started dancing in front of Hot Stuff, and his junk nearly touched her cake. Hot Stuff looked completely appalled by this.
Everyone else found this amusing though, and Pat brought up a time when he was part of a strip pool game.
Pat: That night was insane. I remember still being drunk when the sun was coming up, and I was completely naked.
Me: Wow, where did that happen?
Pat: Your house!
Me: What!? Where was I!?
Pat recounted the story to me. We had just come home from the bar. I turned on my laptop, and Awesome Girl Who Loves Football happened to be online, so I abandoned my friends and began having an amazing conversation with her. Meanwhile, Pat, this other guy and two girls were in my basement. Pat missed a pool shot and took off his shirt. Others followed suit, and eventually, there were four naked people in my house.
Two thoughts entered my head upon hearing about this. First, why wasn't I a part of this? I wouldn't have left my great conversation for strip pool, but couldn't this have happened on another occasion? Why did they have to play strip pool the moment I wasn't around? This was clearly a conspiracy against me, which is unbelievably rude. I let these people into my house; the least they could do is get naked in front of me. Is that too much to ask?
And second, were there any other instances where a bunch of people disrobed together in my house? If I didn't know about the strip pool, there had to be other occasions, right?
If so, I think I'm going to need to buy several more cheap futons for my friends.