The Many Faces of a Party

A party is an event that brings vibrant and some not so vibrant groups of people together. Parties can also bring out a person’s inner self. Even the most introverted person you know can become the life of a party, whether this is due to the social setting or the consumption of influential liquids, we may never know, but a party can be where people’s true faces are revealed.
The first group, and relatively easy to spot, is a group I like to call, regardless of gender is, “madam butterfly.” These social beings float from conversation to conversation like a butterfly to flowers. They make pointless small talk, and like to think everyone enjoys their riveting account of their work week. These people are, however, are not the host, more of a wannabe host. As these people often lack the one vital component to a party, friends.
Next are the people I fondly call “the pillagers.” These people are usually invited through a friend of a friend, or not invited at all. They come to the party with one goal in mind to feast on the free buffet before them and let no one stop them from their ultimate goal of hunger appeasement. They head straight for the food area and ravage it till nothing remains but empty containers and those healthy veggie trays no one likes anyway.
Another ever present group is the “gamers.” These people are always trying to get other to join in their card games in the other room. They usually wonder around in groups of three or four always one man short of the minimum people they need to start whatever game they hope to play. As they wander aimlessly and fruitlessly for their never to be found “last man.” There is always those one or two people they know would play but won’t ask, giving birth to the next group.
The “downers,” these folks make “emo teenagers” look happy. They often zone in on one or two people who they feel will be empathetic to their plights, often following them around like lost puppies, then after choosing their prey they move in for the kill. As they begin telling their victim that no one loves them, the listener may attempt a bid at freedom. This is where the downer lays his carefully planned out trap. The downer will then say something to the effect of “Walk away, no one cares anyway,” at just enough volume to be heard by those in the area. At this point the listener risks being branded as a jerk should he chose to walk away, thus the downer traps his victim.
The next group is one that is nearly invisible but vital to the party’s success and life. These are the “slave children” or “sweat shop kids.” They are often the children of the host of the party and the close friends of the host. While the other kids are off in play area playing board games, these kids run errands, refill food and drink supplies and run any other errand the host is obviously too busy to do. The only question left for this group is why? Even children can easily see “all work and no pay” equals treachery, so what keeps them coming back for more? The answer is a simple one while mom and dad have fun at their party; they also hang love and adoration just beyond the children’s, small and approval hungry, fingertips. While throwing out jeering phrases like “you’re a good boy/girl” or “you’re a good helper,” mommy and daddy keep the little ones happy and ready to serve.
A group connected to the one of above is not so much a group as it usually only consists of one person. This would be the “Dudley Do Right” of the party. This person often comments on the amount of alcohol at the party and can usually be seen getting taunted with phrases such as “even Jesus drank,” but the Do Right will not be deterred, he will proclaim his message of “good clean fun” with the persistence of a Jehovah witness, but his Mother Teresa actions do not end there. With grit and determination that rivals that of Abraham Lincoln, the Do Right fights to free the children from their bonds of slavery. Alas his message, about as effective as a band at a deaf game, reaches no one, not even the children he so desperately fights for.
One of my personal favorite groups that again are usually represented by just one person is the party “boozehound.” This person is usually drinking before they even step foot through the door. The boozehound can often be spotted off by himself conversing with plants or the family dog. However these talks don’t last long as soon the boozehound will realize there are women at this party. As he floats, like a kid in a candy store, from one girl to the next and from one bad come on to another, he soon finds himself out of potential dates and back with the house plant in the corner. A few hours and a few dozen drinks later the boozehound proclaims it’s time for him to leave. As he slurs his goodbyes and reaches for one of the many doorknobs he sees before him, he finally stumbles through the doorway collapsing into his rest stop for the night, the front lawn.
Lastly the group that I know the best is the group I like to call the “observers.” They amuse themselves by watching their fellow “party-goers” interact and seeing how events unfold. Contrary to popular belief the observer doesn’t alienate himself from the rest of the group but instead places himself in the middle of it all, almost egging on conflict between the other groups. As a conflict begins to take place, the observer steps back and watches the “show” he himself created. At all good party moments, one can most likely find an observer at its core. In fact one could go as far as to say an observer could control, to some extent, the part itself, but perhaps I’m just being egotistical.