Old School Hollywood

This year’s Social Dance Party had me worried. I wasn’t planning on attending because of how the friend and the girl changed the plotline, but it was necessary to see how I’d adjust on the fly. I worked, sweated, assembled, and conquered. My wardrobe was simpler than previous years due to my redoubled efforts towards comfort and shock value. I had to be ready for anything, and when anything comes in to play, literally, anything can happen. I walk in to set up shop, and voila, my date precedes me. She looked beautiful, and most importantly, comfortable. She helped out and shadowed me as I dictated my will to everyone entailing what I needed done and how it was going to get done. We made smalltalk, joked with the staffers, then I left for Title Hall to suit up for the show. Wig, belt, sequins…I brought sleazy back. No, it’s not just a joke, the shirt actually said “I’m bringing sleazy back.” The only bummer about it was my glasses didn’t show up yet. However, the party didn’t start until I walked in.

And when I walked in, people noticed. The looks of a matinee idol, the belt of a champion, and the soul of a conquistador set the world on fire for perhaps the last time. I saw a bunch of old faces who could very well have been psychopomps, stayed clear of girls who didn’t seem familiar, and generally directed traffic. Of course, my date kept me plenty of company to say the least. I’m sure there were girls that I didn’t get a chance to cavort with because of my handcuffed status, but it’s all good. I’m not sure what it is about having someone there who only cares about what you care about, but she made my night memorable. I blew her kisses when I was running the line dances, and shared some contraband to ease the nerves.

“You know I didn’t bring you here to dance. I brought you here because I like you.” Kiss on the forehead.
“And I like you, too.” Kiss on the neck.

I had to stay late to make sure everything was cleaned up, because good help is so hard to find.  By the time I did make it to Denny’s, my staff was there, ready to make jokes. To my left and holding my hand was my angel, nodding and laughing with the jokes. I find it funny that my friends approve of her, partly because she’s quiet. Maybe it’s the fact that she doesn’t give me any grief; could be that she doesn’t mind hanging out with the guy who walks around wearing the title of a madman. Considering what happened during the last hurrah, I get the idea that people are pulling for me to walk out in one piece.

Obviously, the night didn’t pass without claiming victims, and I do believe I was first. Once I fell, the others fell, but we all had rum to pass the time and forget the troubles that may come forth. Surrounded by my old friends at the party, fresh blood at the relaxation station, and the Anniversary coming up, I do think it’s time to put on the loafers and revel in the pageantry. Then again, the news I’ve recently received bugs the piss out of me. Damn Walter Jones…I was going to love showing him off at my party. However, maybe it’s for the best. My girl’s birthday happens to be this Saturday, and it would be weird if I spent the whole night ogling the Black Power Ranger. Skibbedebebop. Much later.

Current Track – Mike Posner & The Brain Trust feat. Big Sean “Cooler Than Me”

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