“20 Years Of Marriage” Marriage Party
Entry Requirements: As clearly stated, you will not be admitted unless you wear two to six pieces of clothing you bought at Goodwill. White sneakers–preferably Skechers–and light but gross washed denim are also required. Scrunchies for the ladies and visors for the dads. Turtlenecks are highly encouraged.
What To Serve: Zima, Arbor Mist, or strawberry daiquiris. That’s it.
Projected Party Hero: That guy who has actually been wearing shit like this since high school in a non-ironic fashion. Freshman year of college, a somewhat normal hallmate met this dude and realized he’s fucking hilarious. He assumed the outfits were part of this guy’s “brand.” They weren’t. They’re genuine. Regardless, this dude now has more than one friend like he did in high school and feels right at home at this party. Let him have his moment.
To ensure all the guests really enjoy themselves, only allow conversation about the “kids” (AKA that one person’s dog) to continue for approximately three minutes. Get everyone going the way of Elaine in “The Little Kicks” by putting on some Marvin Gaye or Stevie Wonder. Parents love to get funky whenever they have the chance.
Entry Requirements: You know what they say: “Dress for the job you want, not the one you have.” No business casual allowed. No wrinkles allowed. Think of it as Secs and Execs, only a lot more depressing.
What To Serve: Everything has to be up, on the rocks, or neat. No fruit. Only olives, onions, and twists for garnishes.
Projected Party Hero: Whoever has the richest, big shot dad. He already has way too much experience with these douchebags from accompanying his dad around the golf course for the last 10 years. This guy is going to be the drunkest the entire time, but magically won’t black out and start crying like everyone else.
Realistically, this party will be full of young adults wearing the shit they only wear to interviews, since their real jobs don’t carry nearly enough clout to warrant wearing high quality, formal business attire. Like you feel most times after a day of wearing said attire, you may be overwhelmed with sentiments of failure, which will cause you to drink more. Just don’t throw up on that suit. You can’t afford dry cleaning.
Rec League Zeros And Stay-At-Home Heroes
Entry Requirements: Ladies must always have the “death stare” going and gents won’t be admitted without either a knee brace or gloves on.
What To Serve: Bud heavies and white wine spritzers.
Projected Party Hero: Surprisingly, the star of the game usually gets the drunkest first since he feels he’s earned it. Just wait though, because his wife is used to his bullshit four beer blackout rants and knows exactly when to shove him out of the picture and peak. She’ll be the one turning on Michael Bublé full blast, and will subsequently tell the guys to go fuck themselves if any of them are still sober enough to complain.
Make sure this environment really fosters no intermingling of the sexes. The TV should only play football at an ungodly volume so that Frank from IT can hear it. This level will also ensure that none of the ladies will come near the TV, and therefore have to talk amongst themselves about what shitty significant others they have, and didn’t you know? He only wears that knee brace as an excuse for why he’s so slow.
The Basement Party
Entry Requirements: High school attire. Literally something you used to wear in high school, and by “something” I mean the worst thing. Shell necklaces, screened T-shirts, doo rags, jean skirts, lettermen jackets, etc. It can’t fit anymore, either.
What to serve: Warm Bacardi and orange juice, Gatorade and vodka, and maybe some Popov or wine coolers that you found in your parents bar.
Projected Party Hero: None of your friends. At the mere mention of a throwback themed party, that dude who never left your hometown and still actually lives in his parents’ basement and sells weed and booze to the juniors and seniors will magically appear. Naturally, he will kill it. Kid can put down shots of warm, shitty rum like it’s nobody’s business, but I guess practice makes perfect, right? If you’re offended he showed up though, don’t make a scene. He knows some people that you really DO NOT want to come.
If anyone takes a picture at this party and then actually #TBTs it in the coming weeks or months, you’re required to confiscate this person’s phone and punt it into oncoming traffic in front of him or her.