Party Fail (An excerpt)

**The following blog post is an excerpt from a thing I'm working on called I'll Come to Your Baby Shower...for a Price: How I Became Rich Being a Novelty at White Girl's Parties**
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They told me to bring my favorite recipe to add to a cookbook or something (I never really paid attention because usually it just says "Bring Liquor!"). This time, instead of half-assing it or coming up with a joke recipe,as per usual, I asked around. I asked every person I thought was competent with a stove. To me, "Competent with a stove" means "can turn it on without lighting the house on fire". The extent of my culinary skills are hard boiling an egg...and that is only with heavy supervision. So,I toiled over this recipe thing because I REALLY liked this particular white girl who was getting hitched...or having a baby...or celebrating her quinceañera (once again, never really paid attention...BRING LIQUOR!). Finally, a good friend of mine gave me some crazy thing from her great great nanny or some shit and I was off! Dressed in my finest jeans and t shirt I skipped merrily to the party and was greeted with the usual fanfare of "OMG A BOY AT A PARTY OF GIRLS OMG!" (t-shirts available soon!) and set off to find the wine. Lots of small talk and wine later, it was the dreaded GAME time. But this time I was ready.

Normally, when GAME time comes the hostess looks at me and says "It's okay if you don't feel comfortable playing, just...be funny or something". Like I don't fucking know why I was invited...girl, I was up all night writing jokes for your dumb party, don't tell me how to do my job. But, as I said, at this particular Girl Party, I was gonna be cool and play along and only make a few witty comments. Get ready for Sincere Party Guest 2.0.

So, it was my turn to put my ah-mazing meatloaf casserole card into the holy grail of wedding cookbooks. I skipped merrily (it's the only way to travel)to the front, big grin on my face. When I approached the hostess, I noticed the girls were all on the edge of their Pier One Imported cushions. What the hell? Was I about to
get CARRIE-ed? I put it in...they all giggled (just as I did when I typed "I put it in"). And I sat down nervously when one girl I have never seen before in my entire life (or possibly have known my ENTIRE life, I'm really not good at remembering anyone, ever) shouts "READ IT!!!! REEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAD ITTTTTTTTT! I CAN'T WAIT". Ruh Roh.

When the hostess started reading it out-loud, I realized she was setting it up like one of those "A Man Walks into a bar" jokes. "Put the meat in the bowl"...the room shifted, HERE COMES THE PUNCHLINE! I found more wine and watched. And didn't breathe once. Then it happened. The entire room grew quiet, giggles ceased, and I heard someone (it may have been me) say "...Oh". And they moved on. I had failed. I had broken the spirit of the party. Everyone knew what my presence (or the presence of any boy at these parties) was supposed to stand for and I spat all over it...and not even on purpose! If it had been on purpose, I would've taken great joy in this moment. Instead, I was going to have to finish off that table of wine and go home and buy things on eBay until I was happy again.

This is why,when I am hired (paid or not) to attend your Girl Party, I will not participate in your games. But believe me, I will sit on the couch and make as many snide-crass-witty-as-hell comments about everything and everyone that you can handle. I promise. Sometimes I even fall down your stairs into your mother-in law (more on that later!).