House Party - A Steve Rant

Johnny stood at the urinal thinking that Steve had been strangely subdued the past few weeks, there had hardly been a rant of note and certainly nothing to write home about, maybe his best friend was mellowing as he was growing older.

He zipped himself up, splashed his hands with water and headed back to his pint. As he approached the table, Johnny saw his friend screw up his face as he read something on his phone and then throw the phone down on the table with a clatter; clearly not happy with the message he’d just received. Maybe Johnny had thought too soon.

‘What’s up?’

Steve sighed dramatically. ‘I’ve been invited to a house party on Saturday night.’ Steve said with the enthusiasm of a teenager going to do his homework.

‘That’s good isn’t it? You’re always complaining about your crap social life.’

‘I bleeding hate house parties.’ said Steve with tell tale signs of rant in his voice.

‘Oh I quite like them me,’ said Johnny trying to avert the inevitable, ‘gives you a chance to snoop around in someone else’s home, always a good chance to meet someone too, yeah house parties are okay.’

‘Bollocks they are, and I’ll give you four reasons why not.’

Here we go thought Johnny, here we go, ‘go on then what are the four reasons.’ He sat back and crossed his arms in anticipation… or dread.

‘Well to start with you know I have a tiny bladder, that’s fine in a pub, there’s plenty of toilets and we don’t have to wait for women to finish whatever it is they do in there, but at a house party there is usually only one, and it’s always full, so I spend the whole time waiting for the loo.’

Johnny nodded, Steve did go to the toilet quite a bit after a few beers, he could see his point.

‘Secondly,’ Steve used his right hand to count the fingers on his left. ‘there’s the age old question of what to take.’

‘What to take? Alcohol? Next.’

‘That's too simplistic, yeah alcohol but what? And how much? And can I only drink my own or will there just be a common pool that I am adding too? It is like you have to decide how much you are going to drink before the party starts, you don’t want to take too much cos then you are wasting money but then you don’t want to look tight either. But how much can I drink in a night, 4 cans of beer you look stingy, 8 cans you look like an alcoholic.’

Johnny was a bit taken aback by the anger in Steve’s voice.

‘It’s like arriving at the pub and having to order all your beer up front, 6 pints of lager please barman.’

Johnny smiled and nodded.

‘And then reason 3’ he counted off the fingers on his right hand this time,  ‘what to buy, I hate buying wine, I mean I'm not gonna buy a 20 quid bottle am I? But then again I don’t want to buy a 3 pound one either. I know nothing about wine so what do you take? How do you choose? I’ve spent hours before now in Tesco just choosing the right bottle of wine.’

‘Sorry mate but I am not accepting that as a 3^rd reason, that is the same as the 2^nd really.’ Johnny regretted saying it as soon as it was out.  

Steve didn’t miss a beat, ‘okay’ he said ‘so new reason 3, I like to be out. Being in a house is so restrictive, there’s no view, nothing to see apart from the people in the room, no chance of a random pretty girl walking by or a daft bloke in a daft suit with a daft haircut to make me smile, just the same faces, the same faces get boring after a while. I feel trapped.’

‘Yeah I agree with that one, but there might be people you don’t know.’

‘Yeah true but they might be boring. Anyway reason 4, the hosts.’

‘The host, surely they are different every time.’

‘Yes but as soon as the party starts they metamorphose into party host.’ Steve said the last two words in the style of a film advert.

‘Party hosts?’ Johnny’s voice was dripping with scepticism.

‘Yeah, they always start by saying make yourself at home but then they buzz around like a neurotic wasp, mopping up spills, sweeping up crumbs, putting wine on coasters etc. If you are in a pub no one cares if you drop a crumb or spill a beer but at a house party you're always on tenterhooks, terrified of incurring the wrath of Party Host.’ Steve again put on the voice for the last two words. ‘A misplaced drink on a table, a dropped vol-a-vent or a slopped beer and the host come down on you like a ton of bricks with the words no honestly it’s okay, don’t worry about it, all’s well. All’s well, all's fucking well, people only say that when it’s blatantly obvious all is not well.’

‘Same again?’ Johnny had heard enough and Steve had given his 4 reasons.  He got up to go to the bar leaving his friend shaking his head into the dregs of his pint.