Wednesday, March 17, 2010

A Boy, a Bike, a Tow Truck, and What Happened to all the Limeade

Last night Aaron and I attended a little party to celebrate St. Patrick's day.

We spent most of the evening talking to a girl who was practicing for a dialect exam. Its slightly unnerving to converse with someone about their life and interests when they're faking an Irish accent the entire time.
Our hostess was also practicing, but she spent most of the evening on the couch surrounded by eager young suitors. She'd break away every so often, but one of these times some guy who rode over on a huffy and was looking for someone with a truck so he wouldn't have to ride it home, but could still keep it with him decided it'd be a good idea to kiss her on the lips for making a face at him. Ordinarily that'd be a bit unusual since up to this point a date between the two hadn't even transpired, but these are actors, and so the gesture was met with laughter, appreciation, and the compliment that the young man with the bike was a "real man".
Considering the relationships in the room shed an interesting light on this statement. The room was filled with beautiful women. Hovering over some of them were uneasy men. Upon interviewing several of these I found that none of the guys in dating relationships were actors. One six foot something said he didn't have anything against singing and dancing, but that he didn't participate on stage. His significant other tried to pat him on the head for this remark, but settled on the elbow since that's about as far as she could reach.
Another guy was in marketing and admitted he'd never been to one of these. He'd met his actress just before the Holidays at a brother's ward Christmas party. She'd performed some music that made him wonder if she needed of a boyfriend. He went up afterward and found out the position had already been filled. Apparently Christmas didn't go as planned though because two weeks later she was single. His brother did the recon and within two weeks of being single again she wasn't. He told us all this while she competed with four or five other women for center stage. A camera was produced and suddenly every actress in the room rushed for the center to pose for a group photo. Kind of like a black hole really.
As we watched the excited youths try to outdo one another he realized his car was in danger of being towed and had to excuse himself. He didn't resurface for the entire evening. The girl of his dreams held her own with the others for the next hour and a half before realizing he'd gone.
While the hugs goodbye commenced the "real man" with the huffy decided he needed a drink. Despairing that the limeade was all gone he scoured the counter tops of green plastic party cups. To his delight he announced that there was still some limeade left, and quenched his thirst with the remaining left overs. I suppose he considered the statistical probability that the unfinished cups belonged to women rather than men and that drinking from them would hopefully be a bit like kissing every girl in the room. This of course was confirmed when he announced that the red smudge on one of his new cups was in fact lip stick.

How delicious.