My own first house-warming party was a sweaty drunken affair that ended with a fire alarm being set off and security breaking up proceedings.
This girl I worked with in Lentra – let’s call her Belinda – tried to organise a formal affair.
Most of the people we worked with wisely made excuses not to go, but myself, Boy and Sinead (sister to this girl) said we would go -me because I was told there was food, Sinead because she’s a nice person and Boy because he was secretly in love with me.
We eventually made it to Belinda’s house, after some near-death experiences courtesy of Sinead our driver, and as we’d been told to save lots of room for dinner, we were starving.
As soon as we took off our coats, the three of use were put sitting with Belinda’s fiancé and his 50-year-old friend, while Belinda sat with a couple of her friends in the kitchen area.
We sat in awkward silence as the two grown-ups talked over us.
We had nothing to say to them.
In the car, we’d been talking about our toy pet snake, Sinatra that we kept under the tills in the shop.
Boy eventually turned the conversation to football so he could talk a little to The Fiancé, while The Friend sat staring at me and Sinead.
Eventually Belinda came over to us with plates.
“Do you guys like lasagne?”
Pfffft, do cows…eh…poo!?
As she lowered the plates towards us, our faces fell because before us were the smallest portions known to man.
And that was the end of the promised food.
After another 20mins of listening to awkward conversation, I couldn’t stand it anymore
“Let’s make an excuse and leave,” I hissed
“We can’t! It’s only….” Sinead checked her phone. “…OMG it’s only 9 o’clock!”
“Pretend Orla wants you to collect her now,” I said, remembering that her sister had been asking for a lift if she didn’t get into a club that night.
“No, I can’t. It’s wrong.”
Damn that stupid nice Sinead!
Her resolve cracked a little while later, when she got a call from Orla.
The call went something like this:
Orla: Hey, you don’t need to collect me!
Sinead: You need me to collect you!?
Orla: No no no, we got in!
Sinead: You didn’t get in? Oh ok, we’ll come and collect you then. *makes apologetic face at Belinda*
Orla: No Sinead, we got in! You can stay at the party.
Sinead: Ok, we’ll be there soon.
We had our excuse and Boy sprinted out the door with us.
First we rang Orla to let her know Sinead hadn’t lost the plot.
Then we went to the nearest Eddie Rockets for giant burgers and chips, as well as chocolate malts.
The food was demolished in record time.
And we avoided adult gatherings for a long time afterwards.
In fact, we’re still avoiding them.