830. Why can’t we all come together? Why can’t we have food AND drinks at our parties?

Last night was David’s office party.

I actually wasn’t going to go because I hate talking to strangers. I only said I was going to annoy David.

I was peacefully watching a rerun of Love and Hip Hop Hollywood when David called. It seems that one of his guests wanted to meet me because David reads him all the disgusting things I write about him in my blog. NOTE: He’s proud of that stuff I say about him, go figure.

So I wiped the tomato sauce off the front of my sweater (from yesterday) and went over.

I remember that my mother always had stains on her blouses towards the end of the day. Maybe it isn’t wrinkles that show that you’re old but the fact that you don’t notice when your food flies out of your mouth. (Must tell AARP. Sounds like they ought to check this out)

Naturally Ray was ecstatic. He twirled all the way down the hall.

When I got there only David and this 23 year old kid were present. I’ve heard about the kid. David says he never even asks for the last names of the girls he sleeps with. No big deal to me. Unless he intends to monogram a sweater for them he doesn’t need to know it and cute as he is I’ll bet they pass on his last name too.

I grew up in the sixties. These kids got nothing on me.

Shortly after I arrived the others started drifting in. There were about 5 or 6 men and one woman. all of them quite nice.

I sat there thinking that this was not like any cocktail party I had ever been to and I finally realized why. It was all cocktails and very little food. David always has the best wines and liquor though.

Plus what measly food there was was at the other side of the room so people had to get up from where they were sitting to get a snack.

David had put about 4 or 5 lumps of cheese and a little salami (I do mean a little salami) and crackers on the dining room table. The salami went in the first 5 minutes.

You can take your WASP parties and shove them up your ass. These people were coming straight from work. They weren’t expecting dinner but puleeze. I decided to Jew the place up a little.

I got smaller plates and separated the cheese and crackers and spread them around the room. Then I  went into the kitchen and got some nuts and put them out. I also got a bowl of popcorn from my house.

They gobbled that shit up.

Everyone was having a good time. David brought out his hatchet to show his friends. Surprisingly they were intrigued. They also amused themselves by testing the young kid about how little he knows about the world which brought to mind the old joke from the eighties about a kid telling his friends that he had just found out that Paul McCartney played in a band before Wings.

I whispered a question to David, “Are you going to want to go out to eat when everyone leaves?”

He looked at me like I was crazy and glanced at his glass. And then I realized that the real difference between WASPS and Jews is the way they feel about food.

Unless I’m projectile vomiting I want dinner whereas David can get by on snacks and booze and be quite happy.

And I always thought the only difference between David and me was that I’m a saint and he’s a right wing stupid gun loving racist.

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