September 19, 2009

Saturday Night

So yesterday after work the boyfriend ran into one of our neighbors from across the hall, a kind-of-cute guy in his late twenties, and made pleasantries in a way that implied that he and his wife would get along with us socially as a couple. As a throwaway, our neighbor mentioned that they were having people over on Saturday and we should stop by.

And so. Saturday night, a little after 9 PM we hear our neighbors buzzing people into the building. The boyfriend and I are getting ready to cross the hall, double-checking our hair and deciding whether we need to put on shoes to cross the hall to someone else's apartment, when we hear a "Happy Birthday! Thanks for inviting us over!" and we both do a double take (or at least what counts as a double take in a real life situation and not an old sitcom). Well crap.

We've spent the last twenty minutes alternating between listening at the door, trying to figure out if the husband invited us to his wife's birthday party (which is seeming more and more likely with each new party guest). We're also alternating between talking the other into enough assertiveness to go over and introduce ourselves, even though it's a birthday party and we don't know the birthday girl.

They always say that your social life gets knocked down a notch after moving in with a significant other, but I don't think this is what they had in mind.
Here lies a most ridiculous raw youth, indulging himself in the literary graces that he once vowed to eschew. Now he just rocks out.