No Cake for You
My parents are into having big blowout parties. This has happened all through my childhood. Back then the parties where outdoor summer events in our backyard. They were the kind of parties that held up traffic as cars passing on the street slowed down to see what was going on. There was a lot going on too. My father is a musician and his parties always include a jam session. Live music makes every non-musician party attendee think the party was the best thing ever.
Last night’s party was usual in that regard–live music and way more food than anyone could eat. The party was supposed to start at 6. In true Stan and Pam (my parents) fashion, they weren’t even there when the guests started to arrive. My sister and I were there alone to greet confused guests who all wanted to know where Stan and Pam where. That was a good question because while we knew where Pam was we had no idea what was going on with Stan. When I called him I was told that he was getting ready. From what my husband described though getting ready seems to mean walking in a completely different direction than the party for no apparent reason. They finally did make their appearances though and the party started.
My father invites so many people to his parties that there is no place for them all to sit. There are also usually plenty of people there that no one in our family including my parents even know. Most of these people turn out to be perfectly nice, but sometimes you get a rude entitled one. We had one of those at the party last night. My sister and I didn’t know who he was so we just referred to him as Big Nose. He talked to us like we were his personal servants. Of course, my parents didn’t know anything about this because they were busy being party hosts, but my sister and I experienced his rudeness first hand. We dealt with it by walking away from him every time he tried to demand something of us. We also made sure he didn’t get a piece of birthday cake. If you can’t be nice at the party you don’t deserve cake.
