It's My Party

We just sort of came together. We were six couples who had become friends over the years. It was as if the planets had aligned. Our group was the result. When we managed to get together, the enjoyment and laughter was non-stop.

We became that rarity you very seldom encounter. If our group was together in a public place, other dinners and patrons would listen to our antics and laugh along with us. There were never complaints about us being too loud or having too much fun. We gradually became known as a close-knit fun loving group who brought laughter and entertainment to the party.

We were an eclectic bunch. We were teachers, a lawyer, retired military, a nurse, a farmer, several salespeople, a chemist and two software writers. We were all intelligent and enjoyed discussion and debate.

Several in the group had amazing experiences which they related to the enjoyment of the rest. Some of us had clever repartees and double entendres for every occasion. We never knew where the conversation would go. We just enjoyed the ride.

Jeff had volunteered to set up our next outing. He found an Italian restaurant that featured all you can eat spaghetti and a pitcher of beer for just fifteen bucks per couple. The catch was you had to reserve a table on the restaurant's FaceBook page, and you had to have ten people sign up. We had no problem with the restaurant's rules and soon all twelve of us were listed on their FaceBook page as having dinner on February third.

Then it got weird. "Did you happen to see the comment on our reservation?" asked my wife, Ramona. "Jerry Swenson asked how Bill and Carol managed to become part of our clique."

Jerry's comment was the first of many. The next morning, Ramona was cursing under her breath as she looked at her phone.

"A few people are asking why we didn't invite them. They're saying they like spaghetti and beer. They ask why we're being selfish. Jeff's responded and told people they could easily make reservations like we did and get the same deal."

Ramona was even more irked that night. "People were complaining they didn't have ten friends and couldn't get the good deal. Jeff was selfish for trying to keep our party just among us friends. You won't believe it, but Jeff told people they could join us if they wanted! Some prick actually asked if Jeff was going to include the new people's names on our list, so people could read on the internet about them eating with us!"

I asked, "Does that mean we'll be dining with people we may or may not know, as well as may or may not like?"

"It guarantees it. Jeff has started adding names to keep the cretins happy. Remember Dave Wilson, the guy that always talks about how men should always wear the pants in the family? Remember his psychotic girlfriend? They're coming.

"There's Bill Johnson, who married his cousin, Doris. There's Donna Smith. She's the one that's been arrested for child endangerment a couple of times. We'll even have the pleasure of Tim and Natalie Carson."

"Aren't they the ones that always talk about..."

"How much they love anal sex?" my wife finished for me. "I'm sure Stevie Larson will love chatting with them."

"Stevie? Isn't that the guy who..."

"Dresses up as a woman and tries to seduce men?" Ramona once again ended my sentence.

"Wow! I guess no one can say that we're a clique anymore," I observed. "Every asshole in the country is jumping on this dinner thing. I never realized people might resent us friends getting together to have some fun. We never did anything other people couldn't do, if they tried."

"Nancy and I were talking about it. We've reached this conclusion. We're known for having some great story tellers, some amazing experiences, some really funny wisecracks and repartees, and a lot of fun. People want to be associated with that kind of experience. They want what we have, but lack the talent, the drive, the resources, the imagination, or the confidence to achieve it.

"It's like high school all over again. By us not paying attention to assholes, they think we're trying to hurt them, or restrict their happiness. Jeff is going to drop off a check for ninety bucks for us six couples at the Italian restaurant tomorrow and cancel our reservation. We're going to the steakhouse on Third Street instead."