A British house party

NOTE: This is not an image from last night's party.

The best part of going out on weekends is not knowing where to go. In fact, I try to avoid over-planning stuff because in the end nothing goes the way I expect it. Such is the case last night when I went out with my flatmate and a couple of his friends. It was some friend’s birthday, so we headed to Green Park first to start off the night. Too bad we came late for drinks, so the birthday girl wanted to go to her friend’s place in Acton. You know what that means–house party!

Since I’ve landed in this sceptered isle, my fun has been limited to pub nights and mediocre club, but I have yet to enter the world of the British house party. Though it took us ages against torrential rain to get there, it was interesting journey getting there. I didn’t really have anything cool to wear apart from my H&M coat, but the fact that I wore my hoodie as well just ruined the style.

Despite dressing like crap, it was one of those house parties where everyone seemed chill and the venue was just cozy and quite spacious (for British standards). Not everybody was chill, though. As me and my mates were putting our coats in the closet, some bitch thought it would just be welcoming to act like, well, a bitch. Such is a welcome. Otherwise, it was easy to start a conversation with most of the people there, and I didn’t feel much pretentiousness coming from the partygoers. On the other hand, some were too friendly. A thirtysomething woman caressed me for a few minutes as I introduced myself, but I managed to escape her clutches once she introduced me to her husband. Why the hell were you touching me then?

The thing that seemed to peeve me was why certain people, after a few drinks, end up talking about politics. Since I was the only American at the party, some people always like to bring up social issues, especially issues relating to the USA. I always seem to wonder why every time I have a conversation with someone in this country (particularly guys) needs to bring politics in the conversation. It’s fascinating, but I go to parties to banter, not talk about who’d make a great Prime Minister next year.

After two cans of Stella, it was time to go for all of us. But after going to this house party, I wonder if I’m getting old for this. Perhaps I should have a house party at some point. Free Stella for everyone!*

*While supplies last.