I send a text message.
“I am now going to be about this weekend. Is it still OK to come to your do?”
It was a friend’s 30th birthday, and I had previously made plans which meant I could not make his party. But those plans changed (I was not rain-checked, and anyone who says I was is… etc etc), and so I was now going to be in attendance. I then set about arranging to car share with my ex-flatmate, and whilst on the phone I asked, “There isn’t a theme or anything is there?”
“No.” he confidently answered (this is important, remember this bit).
As we pulled into the rugby club venue I noticed something awry. Just about every person we saw was dressed as if they had stepped out of the Wild West, which as everyone knows was full of cowboys, Native Americans (which were called ‘Indians’ in those days. I know!) and inflatable horses.
My first thought was that this was such a shame, that my friend should have his party gatecrashed by the local camp line-dancing troupe. Then I noticed a mutual friend dressed like a cowboy, and he is a rubbish line dancer, which could mean only one thing. He had been taking line dancing lessons! What better way to announce your exit from the closet than at a friends 30th birthday party?
Alas, it turned out that he had not, and as we walked into the bar a number of heads turned to greet us. I had that horrible feeling you get when you dream that you have turned up to school without any underpants (before you realised such an action was actually liberating and perfectly normal, no matter what anyone says).
It was clear that people thought I could not be bothered to dress up, and I hate people thinking I am a party-pooper. I am not. I definitely would have dressed up, and it would have been the best costume at the party, obviously. But I did not know about it and when I challenged my ex-flatmate, and now borderline ex-friend, his response was a half-hearted, “Meh.”
He was clearly not bothered by our plight, but it is very hard to convince impressionable young ladies to sleep with you when they are in a room full of cowboys, and you and not dressed like a cowboy. Even my explanation that “this is what cowboys dress like nowadays, I am a chronologically up-to-date cowboy” fell upon deaf ears.
Still, on the bright side, I did not feel like an utter twat when we went to a nightclub later.
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18 comments
<< HAHAHAHAHAHA
Keef · August 30, 2007 at 8:49 am
First but I won’t brag about it
surely you mean your friend’s twenty-tenth birthday?
AFC 30K · August 30, 2007 at 9:07 am
But did you pull at the night club?
David · August 30, 2007 at 9:15 am
Yes, this is very important! Did you get more success at the nightclub than them?
Did your mate “come out”?
Was there any line dancing?
Wont somebody THINK OF THE DETAILS!
Dave
http://www.hottogs.com
Lolita · August 30, 2007 at 9:33 am
I’m sorry, but you’re definitely the winner here.
A cowboy-themed 30th birthday party? Wrong!
Sam Cullum · August 30, 2007 at 9:42 am
How old – I mean themed birthday partys are for kids. Please tell me that he didn’t have cowboy table cloths and paper plates etc., were there party bags and birthday cake at the end. Was there a cowboy clown for the entertainment. He must surely be single, a cowboy themed birthday party for an adult is wrong in so many ways.
Admin comment by Mr Angry · August 30, 2007 at 10:05 am
Keef – Hello. Thirty is an ‘age’, Twenty-ten is a state of mind. I think.
AFC – That is not important, please stop drifting off-topic.
David – Hello. The was some line-dancing, of a fashion. Basically a big circle of people going “Yee Har!”
Lolita – There is absolutely nothing wrong with dressing up. Nothing at all.
Sam – He is married actually, even though he is gay. But that is the best cover, so I have heard.
Lolita · August 30, 2007 at 10:22 am
Dressing up is fine, but keep your cowboy fetish behind closed doors please.
We’ll all expect an invite to your superhero-themed birthday. You can be Wonder Woman.
TheBoy · August 30, 2007 at 10:44 am
SO you didn’t pull then.
Pity, you were quite right in your ascertions. Now modern cowboy worth his salt would be seen dead dressed up like a cowboy.
Other than the boots, and a big ol buckle, and a few scars from being thrown off a horse.
Jo · August 30, 2007 at 12:00 pm
Oh it’s so much worse the other way round. As in, you walk into a party dressed as a cowboy / superhero / old maid and everyone else is in normal gear. Then you’re fucked (not literally. definitely not literally)
Gnarlyswine · August 30, 2007 at 1:17 pm
In Canada we spend most of our time dressed as cowboys – when we have a birthday party we like to dress up as Investment Bankers and assorted City Professional types. Our Native Americans (we call them aboriginals now – move with the times!)tend to dress up as Casino staff.
Equine Pimp · August 30, 2007 at 1:26 pm
Were you all upset because you wanted to get in some practise for “theme night” on tour?
Megan · August 30, 2007 at 1:54 pm
They weren’t authentic dressed-as-cowboy people unless they had belt buckles the size ‘o Texas that they won ten years ago at the State Fair calf roping contest. Also they need a rather enormous stomach which necessitates the use of said buckle as a restraining device.
AFC 30K · August 30, 2007 at 2:42 pm
But the truth is you WANTED to dress up like a cowboy didn’t you.
I sense that you are so upset with your ex-flat mate because you are so miffed about the chance to get togged up in tight jenas, check shirt and a leather wast coat!
la cubana gringa · August 30, 2007 at 3:00 pm
Surely you made an impression on the ladies at the club, then? (Though I sincerely hope your penis does not look like Owen Wilson’s nose…that’s not the kind of impression you want to make.)
Equine Pimp · August 30, 2007 at 3:51 pm
AFC 30K – You mean his usual Friday night look?
ninja chinchilla · August 30, 2007 at 7:55 pm
At my thirtieth/twenty-tenth birthday party the only theme was alcohol, and lots of it.
Probably explains why I had to be carried home at 10:30pm by my flatmates after spending at least half an hour with my head down the loo.
Classy I am not.
clarissa · August 30, 2007 at 10:50 pm
And were you any luckier with the ladies at the subsequent non-Cowboy infested nightclub?
Bock the Robber · September 1, 2007 at 12:22 am
It’s a long time since my twenty-tenth birthday HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!