Party Politics

This semester, I've partied more than I have in any other period in my life, and I think through the haze of drunkenness and euphoria I've learned a couple of things.

Number one, I like large parties with mass quantities of alcohol and other favors and plenty of music played at reasonable levels. Lots of people getting wasted and having a good-ass time.

Number two, which is a reason for number one, is that I have become turned off, indeed paranoid, of the small party scene. Sure, I've had some great times just chillin' with small groups and having a few drinks, but that just hasn't been the case recently. Not long ago, there was a small (6-8 person) party I attended that went to hell in a hand basket. Interpersonal battles that had been brewing for weeks, nay, months began before my very eyes. Seriously, there was a point where through my intoxication, I wished the cops would have busted in. In the past some of my worst experiences with alcohol have come from small group parties (OU/Texas weekend, the crying incident, etc.).

So, this last weekend, I was faced with a dilemma: Hang out at a small party with people I had known for a long time or attend a large party across town with some other people I had known for a long time. Now, realizing that I had had a rough past week or so, I knew that my personal life would eventually infect the small party making it a worse experience for those present. I took into account that my desire to get drunk and vent to someone would be a selfish proposition and that in that atmosphere it would be inevitable.

There were other factors leading to my decision to eventually choose the large party: the more favorable male-to-female ratio, the fact that said party was a toga party. I mention the latter because I have always wanted to attend such an event, as most of my friends can attest. Using the former, it could be said, violated the rule of "Bro's Before Ho's." But, honestly, can anyone fault me for that? Doubtful.

My choice to lie in order to leave the small party was a bad call on my part. My friends deserve better than that and I regret it. But at this point in my life, hedonistic calculus is taking over my decision-making process. I gambled on one of the maxims and lost, in doing so, I obtained the maximum pain on one side and the minimum pleasure on the other.

But, it was a risk I felt I had to take.

So, to the haters, the cockblockers, the critics, the racists, the cops, I say, "Let a playa play." And to the kegstanders, the beer pong pros, the party sluts, the beer bongers, and everybody on the dance floor, I say, "Here I come, my babies."