It was a party I organized myself and it sucked so bad my friends and I still joke about it, 10 years later. "Hide your shoes!" they say, and we all laugh.
I must have been around 18 years old, living alone with my dad, and he was gone on a weeklong work trip. What a perfect time to throw a party, and just in time for my birthday too!
So I invite my group of friends from elementary school, my friends from college, my brother and my cousins. They didn't all know each other but I figured they could still socialize. I also decided to invite a couple of cool dudes from work. We would be around 20 and I told the 2 guys from work that we were already a big gang and not to invite more people.
So the party starts, everyone is there except the guys from work and we're all drinking and having some good fun. As a birthday gift my friend rolled me a joint the size of a cuban cigare. (Back when I still smoked and being a teenager, you could never have enough!). So we suck this baby down like coca-cola and my stone-o-meter quickly jumps from Cement-is-actualy-comfy to ULTRA-Derp!.
And that's when work buddies call. Now, bear in mind two things: These guys are of the very-tanned variety, if you know what I mean. I had always though racism was a stupid concept to being with but this is important for later. Second, I was too stoned for my own good.
Buddy calls and tells me he's having trouble finding my address, I give him directions and while I'm doing so, I can hear a lot of people talking in the background. As I hang up, I can hear him say they have two cars, something about parking? My mind trailed off. From that point on, a little doubt started growing inside. This was my father's house, a pretty big barrack, well decorated and always kept as clean as it could be. My friends were pretty respectful and always helped me clean but with work buddy and his suddenly unknown cohort, I'm not sure anymore.
I start thinking I just missed my opportunity to give him the wrong directions. That was before GPS was a thing so it was still pretty easy to lose someone.
An hour passes by and as I'm checking up on everyone I start to really freak out. Images from all those college kids movies throwing an open house party that goes to hell start popping up in my mind. By the time they arrived I was tripping balls.
And boy were my fears founded. Those two numbskulls brought their extended family, decorated in stereotype attire and brigning to the table 40oz bottles of cheap beer.
So now we have three different groups of people in my house, each staying in one area because they're having trouble finding common ground with each other. The newly arrivals' effort at socializing was hitting on everyone else's girlfriends and trying to buy weed. My guitar playing friend erected a musical forcefield of country music to bar access to the kitchen, the chokepoint of the house.
My cousin was studying in social politics at the time and though this whole situation was fascinating! "There's segregation going on in the living room!". My older brother laughed his ass off.
The new guys stay for a while and are making everyone uncomfortable. I don't remember how diplomatic or eloquent I was but eventualy I managed to get them to leave and that was a hell of a relief. As we watched them exit the house one of them also relieved himself, on my friend's car.
Ten minutes later, a girl at the party starts looking for her cellphone but can't find it. As I'm helping her look my friend comes to me, angry, saying "Dude! I can't find my shoes!". They were these fancy new skate shoes he bought, he was fairly proud of them, and his only pair.
Eventualy we give the cellphone a call and guess who answered it...
"Hey man! Thanks for the party, we like your shoes!". click
So that night I learned about stereotypes, party management and the value of good judgement.
Hide your shoes.
My father will never know about this. :D