Party anecdotes
Jun. 28th, 2003 08:56 pmThe party I went to today was basically a block party thrown by some friends of mine for a community development corporation that works in our neighborhood. Since I mostly live like a hermit this meant I got to meet some of my neighbors, many of whom were quite nice.
There was this one guy who was, I think, a lawyer of some kind, who bragged about getting some kids arrested for picking flowers in his front yard and who generally seemed to be much more interested in talking than listening. I hung out listening to him harangue one of our hosts (call her X) for a little while, then headed over to the food, where I met X's boyfriend, who asked me in a quiet but concerned voice, 'Is X going to kill that guy?' (I wasn't sure, but, not to keep you in suspense, she didn't.)
In another part of the party, a friend of mine, who works at a private club, talked about how when he goes past the big blenders in the kitchen, he always keeps his hands behind his back, because otherwise he has this strong, irrational urge to put his hands in one of the blenders. Once, when he was eyeing one of the blenders, one of the cooks guessed what he was thinking and told him, 'Those things will take your arm off, you know.' This is a kind of urge which, I must confess, is not entirely foreign to me. Ah, good old deathwish!
Hm, I thought there was more, but that's all I can remember for now. Anyway!
There was this one guy who was, I think, a lawyer of some kind, who bragged about getting some kids arrested for picking flowers in his front yard and who generally seemed to be much more interested in talking than listening. I hung out listening to him harangue one of our hosts (call her X) for a little while, then headed over to the food, where I met X's boyfriend, who asked me in a quiet but concerned voice, 'Is X going to kill that guy?' (I wasn't sure, but, not to keep you in suspense, she didn't.)
In another part of the party, a friend of mine, who works at a private club, talked about how when he goes past the big blenders in the kitchen, he always keeps his hands behind his back, because otherwise he has this strong, irrational urge to put his hands in one of the blenders. Once, when he was eyeing one of the blenders, one of the cooks guessed what he was thinking and told him, 'Those things will take your arm off, you know.' This is a kind of urge which, I must confess, is not entirely foreign to me. Ah, good old deathwish!
Hm, I thought there was more, but that's all I can remember for now. Anyway!