He Walked In On The Most Ridiculous “Party” He Could Imagine
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The house was completely bare.
From somewhere in the dark came my ‘friend’ trudging down the stairs, dressed in nothing but his boxer shorts, wiping the spittle from his chin, his cheek still lined with bed marks and his hairy stomach grumbling like a rabid mongoose.
He mumbled something to me about the lights being shut off before he began tucking into my delicious poultry, ripping great strips of meat from the birds and stuffing them into his stupid face.
Though I didn’t want to admit it, my mind was beginning to realize that the whole thing had been a ruse by this obese sloth to get a free meal.
He remembered his manners long enough to offer me a glass of water and then he was back at it, half dressed, hunched over the living room table gorging himself on MY chicken and gargling down MY special sauce.
He was lucky he was late on his electricity bill because he didn’t get to see me sitting in the dark, tepid glass of water in hand, shivering with rage.”
They Came To Eat, Not Babysit
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“Last summer, my dad’s work friend invited our family to a barbeque for Memorial Day. Now, my dad’s a little older than his coworkers, so my youngest sibling is 17 and most of his coworkers’ kids are around 8 years old.
We got there and my dad and brother went out to drink with the guys and cook some meat and all that jazz. Meanwhile, after hardly introducing herself and ignoring our presence, the hostess led my younger sister and myself downstairs where the kids were hanging out and just left us there as if we were going to be the unpaid babysitters for 20 kids.
I left that kiddy dungeon and sat in my dad’s chair/armrest for the rest of that extremely awkward bbq and have avoided seeing that rude witch ever since.”
The Worst Place She Could Have Possibly Thrown Up
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“My senior year of college, two classmates and I rented a big, crappy house in which we held big, crappy parties most weekends. We were all theatre majors, so every time a show opened or some other big event occurred in our major, we invited everyone over afterward to get sloppy and stupid.
One of our last parties before graduation, my roommate invited her friend from high school down. He seemed like a pretty nice guy when I met him during the day, and at the party he was even nicer, giving out party favors to all of our friends in my roommate’s bedroom!
Now, I’m not too prudish about that type of recreational activities people use. Though I wouldn’t do coke myself, I don’t necessarily have a problem with other people doing so. But this dude was a bonafide dealer. Sooo…I drank a little more and avoided my roommate’s bedroom.
Flash forward a few hours, and suddenly some coked out chick I didn’t know was puking in our fridge. Plenty of people have puked at my house (it’s what you get when you throw parties), but never in my fridge! I had just gone grocery shopping earlier that day, so I wasn’t too happy. At least this girl was kind enough to move over to the sink for her second wave.
As I accompanied the girl out of the house and called her a cab, her friends arrived and were all like, ‘WHERE ARE YOU TAKING OUR FRIEND, SHE’S SICK! WHO ARE YOU?!’
I responded: ‘I live here, and your friend just vomited on my cauliflower.’
The friends were also pretty wasted… not sure if they were coked out, but they may have been. Anyway, they shouted a little bit at me, but when they realized that I was not actually doing anything wrong, they started shouting at their friend for being ‘such a freshman.’ By this point, the girl was sitting on my lawn and pulling up the grass. I explained that I had called a cab and told the two others to just wait until it got here and to please get their friend home.
Back inside, the party was starting to wane, and I was grateful because I had a fridge to clean… But when I got to the kitchen, there was the dealer: whistling a happy tune and cleaning the puke out of my fridge. He looked at me and said, ‘Hey, don’t worry, man. I’ve got this!’
The next morning, the dealer was gone, but the fridge was spotless. He even bought me some new cauliflower.”
“It Smelled Like A Dead Body…”
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“I went to my father’s friend’s 50th party when I was 13. I wasn’t allowed to stay home alone, so I was obliged to go. It is still the worst party that I have ever attended.
The party was held at a golf club that was half an hour away from my house. The place was really nice, but there was a big problem with it: it’s bathrooms weren’t working. I was supposed to stay at a golf club for four hours and not use the bathroom. There wasn’t even a port-a-potty outside, which meant I had to hold it in. The place was packed when I arrived. There were millions of people who I didn’t know wandering around the area, greeting the hosts and fueling on the appetizers. The appetizers weren’t of the best quality, they were just your run of the mill appetizers (like guacamole, chips and salsa, potato chips, etc.).
The following 45 minutes were just banter and a 30-minute introduction by the host that felt like I was watching a monologue from a Garry Marshall rom-com. It wasn’t until an hour into the party that it went down. After a roast from the host’s daughters and wife, my father and his friends set up a skit about the host’s life, which was terrible to say. Seeing grown men act out a bike race on tricycles was terrible, but seeing my best friend’s dad in drag was even worse. This guy was probably the most macho person I have ever known, as he actually worked as a lumberjack in Canada, so seeing him in drag was a pain to my eyes. My best friend was also sharing his disbelief. After an excruciating 20 minutes, all of the guests were supposed to put on name tags while the food was being prepared in the kitchen, with the name tags being of a fictional person or a celebrity. My friend and I decided to do Adolf Hitler and Heinrich Himmler, as our irresponsible 13-year-old personalities had taken over our brains that night. We were walking around when an attendee yelled at us loudly and forced us to tear off our stickers. Dejected, my friend and I went back to our table, with my friend putting a name tag that said Bill Cosby (again, we were 13). I didn’t put on my name tag. Then I spent the following time waiting for the food to come while downing my sorrows in my third bottle of soda.
When the food came, I almost gagged at the smell. It smelled like a dead body was covered in dog food and manure before being sprayed by a skunk and locked in a French outhouse for ten years, and tasted even worse. The host, as well as almost all of the attendees, were of Indian descent, and the chefs decided to make Indian cuisine but butchered it SO badly. The palak paneer was rancid, while the naan felt like it was left in the freezer for two weeks. I couldn’t eat after one bite and had to fill myself with two extra bottles of soda. Dessert was no better. There were twenty platters of cheesecake, all of which were the same flavor. The flavor itself was stale, and the texture was thicker than flex seal on top of memory foam. I threw it away after two bites before quickly finishing three more bottles of soda.
At this point, I had downed over ten bottles and wanted to ask my dad to leave, only to see a woman walk into the room, shouting that she was stabbed while clutching a car key to her stomach. To add insult to injury, she took a bite of cheesecake, saying that it was ‘the best thing she ever had.’ It was a dinner theater. For two straight hours, I had to sit through actors pretending to be detectives, with them doing stuff like singing ‘Party In The USA’ and covering each other in tablecloths and pretending to be ghosts. The actors didn’t seem to be interested in it at all, as they sounded like they were wasted. There was an intermission after the two-hour ‘show,’ and almost everyone left. My dad was slumped in his chair, too lazy to get up, and I felt like throwing up. My best friend was chugging bottles of soda, trying not to fall asleep. When the actors came back, they were surprised that everyone had left. They haphazardly put on a show, with the ending being that one of the detective’s exes was the murderer. I was asleep by the end of the act, and was later woken up by my equally tired dad. We both left, and my dad later said in the car, ‘That was terrible.’
And to this date, that is the worst party I have ever attended.”