Despite my introverted and shy nature, people may be surprised to know that I’m not much of a party animal. I don’t have the natural instinct for merrymaking, an instinct loudly evident in most members of the general population. However, my friends (both of them) assured me that partying could be learned, and unselfishly offered to teach me (for a fee). I don’t know if I learned anything from what they called their “raise the roof” lessons because I usually woke up in my underwear, lying stiff and sore on my concrete bomb shelter floor, surrounded by several empty bottles of Boone’s Farm Strawberry Hill Wine.
My insufficient partying skills once ruined a surprise birthday party I threw for myself. Looking back, I think I suspected something was up because of all of the party decorations displayed throughout my house, the birthday cake I purchased at Dairy Queen, and the glittery party hat I wore all day with “It’s My Birthday!” written on it.