Waking up last Sunday was tougher than usual. It takes a fair time to recover when you reach my age and you’ve spent the best part of eight hours at a 21st birthday bash, swilling some rich bastard’s alcohol and tucking into their smoked salmon and marinated chicken legs while trying to tee up a game of hide the sausage.
It was a fun night. It always is when you’re not on the guest list. It’s very simple to organise. All you need to do is remember a few basic rules.
The hosts
The richer, the better. It stands to reason - rich people throw bigger parties,
and provide more and better quality alcohol to impress their guests. “We’re
having a bit of a bash next month for Siobahn’s 21st. You must come,
daaaahling. Noooooo, don’t bother bringing anything,". That means
plenty of free, top-shelf piss and grub. Rich bastards don’t mind if
their guests bring a friend either. That means plenty of people who are
complete strangers to them - like you.
The suburb
Ritzy suburbs are the best. In Brisbane, that's Ascot, St Lucia, the bits
of Highgate Hill nearest the river, and the parts of Chelmer on the right
side of the tracks.
The house
Large Queenslanders are the best targets, firstly because they are usually
owned by filthy rich families, and secondly because they offer strategic
and logistical advantages which I’ll detail later. It pays to spend
a few hours on Saturday morning just cruising the streets - or avenues-
in the type of suburbs mentioned above. The telltale signs begin to emerge
about lunchtime. You’ll see family members tidying up around the yard
and others stringing fairy lights, balloons and streamers around the verandah.
Take note of the address.
What to wear?
The all black look still works wonders. You can fit in at any party in basic
black.
It's a look that works almost like a chameleon - it can look formal or informal
depending on the surroundings.
Timing is vital
Don't arrive too early.
It's best to turn up around 9.30pm. Take a taxi and get out down the block from
the house. There shouldn’t be any other arrivals at that time. It’s
also the time when any speeches are made - after people have guzzled a bit
of avgas, but not enough to make jabbering idiots of themselves. Wait until
the speeches start. This is an ideal time to enter.
The entrance
Walk boldly up the front steps. You’ll find in large Queenslanders
that parties easily spill out onto the open verandahs so your entrance will
go largely unnoticed by members of the host family.
A benefit of arriving during the speeches is that you never have to explain
who you are. Just nod silently to the people nearest the door who’ll
no doubt be eyeing you while keeping one ear on the speeches. These people
nearest the entrance are also generally the more distant relatives, neighbours
or friends of friends of the guest of honour, so they won’t know whether
you belong there or not. If it’s a catered and waitered do, you’ll
soon have a flute in your hand ready for a toast and ready for refilling
about three dozen times during the evening.
The guest of honour
By entering during the speeches you also find out fairly quickly what type
of celebration you’ve crashed. Is it a 21st, a graduation, engagement,
farewell, or welcome home party? The speeches will tell you. They’ll
also tell you the name of the guest of honour -a vital piece of information
for tossing into conversation later.
The gift
On arrival, don’t forget to ostentatiously display the gift-wrapped
box you’ve brought. Apologise profusely about losing the card in the
taxi/bus/train on the way over. (How do you know who to pen your congratulations
to until you hear the speeches?) Your gift will almost certainly be taken
from you by an aunty and placed on a table groaning with other presents.
Mingling made easy
After the speeches stop, start mingling. The easiest way is to grab a bottle
of champagne from a waiter and offer to top up people’s flutes. This
allows you to move away quickly if any hard questions are asked. It also
allows you to take a quick swig when no-one’s looking.
Large Queenslanders offer you the added protection of being able to cruise
the verandahs while keeping an eye on activities inside. Watch for tell-tale
signs of trouble - like a huddle involving the guest of honour and four
John Eales lookalikes saying something like: “Who invited that pisspot
in black? Let’s ask him.”
Spending most of your time on the verandahs will allow for a rapid exit
if things turn nasty. As a general rule, avoid the guest of honour if at
all possible - they are the only person in the house who will know if you
belong there or not. When anyone else asks who you are with, just nod in
a nonspecific direction and say: “I’m lucky to be going out with
that gorgeous beast over there.”
If you are a male, make sure you don’t nod at one of the Eales quads.
If any hard questions start to be asked just remain calm, look the inquisitor
directly in the forehead and say: “Have you had that spot seen to?”
Skin cancer is a marvellous subject changer, in fact the mention of any
sort of cancer is guaranteed to set the conversation off on a completely
benign tangent.
The departure
Don’t be the last to leave - unless you are unconscious, then it is
unavoidable. Try to slip away when a group of other people are leaving.
Just walk out behind them as they are being farewell led by your hosts.
By this time the owners of the house and the guest of honour will be too
tired/pissed to even remember you’ve been there all night.
The cost
At most you’ll have to shell out for gift wrapping and return cab fare
which should cost no more than $20 all up.
The upside
The upside is that you can spend a pleasant evening getting slowly tanked
at an undoubted tax avoider’s expense.
There’s also the chance you might actually win on to a member of the
opposite sex or the same sex if you prefer. In either case, remember
to blow anything but your cover, just in case you want to repeat the performance.
The downside
The biggest downside is that you won’t be around to see the look on
the party boy/girl’s face when he/she discovers the grogin you so thoughtfully
gift-wrapped earlier in the day - first in clingwrap to cut the smell and
make handling easier, and then in a cellophaned gift box finished with a
tastefully curled ribbon.