Where Did All The House Parties Go?

When was the last time you went to a house party? Not a dinner party, or a soiree, but a good ole' fashioned "shake the house down to the foundation" party? Umm. I was in my 20s the last time I went to one. And come to think of it, I think I was the host.

This weekend we celebrated the birthday of one of my diva friends. We met at a tapas bar (yes, damn it- tapas bar) and then went to a little dessert cafe afterwards. A good time was had by all. Now, don't get me wrong- no one loves to get their eat, drink, and laugh on more than I do, but at the end of the night, I thought about how we used to do things "back in the day". LOL

So on the ride home, I got into a conversation with Mr. Lover Lover about house parties in general. We started reminiscing about some of the wilder parties that we attended in our youth. He even mentioned one party where they were jumping and carrying on so bad that the wood floor was buckling. Now that's what I'm talking about. When was the last time you got down like that?

When I was younger, my folks had parties all the time. Rent parties, promotion parties, she finally left that fool parties, I can't believe he took her back after sleeping with his best friend parties, Christmas parties, Thank God It's Friday parties. The list goes on. They got their groove on, and their slow drags as well. It wasn't a party until someone played some Al Green for my mother. It was all about destressing.

I don't go to house parties these days. Mainly because people just don't have them. They don't want to contend with the preparation before and the clean up afterwards. Folks no longer have good manners, and we work too hard to get alcohol all over our beige carpets and fine furniture. And do you know how hard it is to rent a metal detector for the door? But dang ya'll, don't you just miss it?

Let's go back for just a minute, shall we?

It's Friday evening. You are leaving work with an air of anticipation. So-and-so is having a BYOB party. Tonight, you are not the designated driver, so you know it will be on and popping. You get home, shower, put on your booty jeans, heels ( or hot ass boots, in my case) a sexy, sleeveless top ('cause you know it is going to get hot in there), and pull that hair up off your neck so that you are not looking like a wet poodle by the end of the night. The girlfriend caravan arrives. You head out to dinner first because you know So-and-so is stingy with the food, and you don't want to be hungry while getting your groove on. After eating, early drinks, and lots of laughs, the Divas arrive en masse at the party of the week. You don't ring the doorbell because they won't hear you over the music anyway. As you wind your way deeper into the house, greetings are shouted out from all over the room. You can't get your purse in the bedroom fast enough because the bass is infectious. You dance alone, you dance with friends, you dance with the hottie with a body, you dance with the brother that you will have to run from the rest of the night. You dance until the cops come knocking or until your designataed driver tells you it's time to go. You get home at 4 in the morning, crash until noon, and call all your girlfriends Saturday afternoon for the after action review, and to plan the trip to the club later that night.

Wow! Remember that?

I'm adding "house party" to my list of things to do this year. Maybe I can bring it back- like hip huggers and afros.

Anybody down for a house party?