And Good Times Were Had By All

Well, the party is over. I've checked all the closets, the cupboards and under the bed: the guests have all gone home.

All that's left is a rather seedy assortment of bottles (both empty and full), my rather seedy neighbor next door, and my rather seedy self. Empty beer cases litter the kitchen, which is overflowing with unwashed wine glasses, unwashed trays, unwashed bowls, and unwashed utensils.

I may have to move again.

Of course, that would mean another party, more bottles, more unwashed glasses, trays, bowls and utensils-- which is rather a bother. I suppose I shall have to stay put for now, but I could really use a good housewife, someone to wear poufy Donna Reed dresses, wipe my fevered brow, and clean house while I sleep.

The party was chock full of artistic and nerdy goodness. I had never thought to combine these two groups of friends together before, but my secret fears of an explosive matter/anti-matter reaction never materialized.

As it was a Sunday evening, the sensible people left between 10:00 and 11:00 pm. However, as we all know, I am not qualified to act as a sensible person.

Instead, I imbibed more than humanly necessary and went out with a couple of highly irresponsible persons to some place I forget in downtown, where I listened to wild gypsy music and danced a faux tango with a lanky bartender from Serbia. There may possibly have been a conga line involved; however, I am pleading my Fifth Amendment rights against self-incrimination.

Bedtime was 4:30 a.m. after catching a ride with a highly suspicious Polish cabdriver.

And we all lived Happily Ever After, although some of us may have hangovers and mysterious bruises.

The End.