You know four guys living in a house always equal to trouble. We all were 22, I still was somewhat very quiet but we decided to throw our first party or let's call it a social gathering. This is when I really met the other members of the 100 miles clique, Turbo the ultimate hype-man, Dill and Bolo (the big ass weightlifting dude). 100 miles is still a later chapter but the theme behind the gathering was suppose to be all about the 70's. Actually, one of the roommates had a circular shaped bed. That thing was sweet. All he needed was the bed to rotate, some heart shape pillows to complete the look and maybe throw in some leopard sheets.
Well, I was talked into wearing a diaper like the guy from Parliament-Funkadelic and I went along with
it. It was a setup, none of the roommates dressed up, well Rio did but he changed back into regular clothes. Therefore, I was left standing in the middle of the party in a sheet wrapped around my ass like a diaper. That wasn't cool but I did it. Lucky it didn't make me a emotional wreck and no pictures ever surfaced.
The party turned out to be a small success. I'm putting extra emphasis on small. Party number two, was very different, a lot more people but started slow like a 8th grade dance until Rio turned on the lights and I quote "I thought y'all came to party, here's what we are going to do, everyone is gonna go outside and walk back in, the lights will go back off and you better party your asses off". Needless to say that we almost the blew the roof off that mutha f**** and the last person to leave was trying to beat the sun home.
I know, I know, still sounds a little tame but number three. Listen, party number tres (3 in spanish). After, we discovered our underage neighbor and her passed out in one of the rooms. She will be included in a few other stories as we known her for years and still is a close friend. We just had to make sure that she was safe. Things went to the next level, there were more titties exposed that night while people were dancing than a Saturday night at the Stadium club. We should have charged a $20 cover and a two drink minimum. Rent would have been paid for at least a month.
The grand finale, party number four. We are not sure if the word got out about the boobies at the last one or just our parties were good. Number four, the Fire Marshall could have shutdown. We probably had well over 100 pass through that small townhouse and most of the people we never seen before or knew who invited them. It was Project X without the Hollywood fluff added. We had told the neighbor that we were having another party and let us know if things we're too loud. Being a jerk, he came over and I could see if he complained about too many people standing outside with red cups. We all know about the red cups. This clown said to us that the music was giving his kids nightmares. You could barely hear the music because we had it turned down so people could talk. After that the music got cranked up probably to the not most respectable level.
We all know that good parties ends up with the cops. They showed up but nothing was extreme and they did not knock on the door because they didn't have a purpose too. These pricks still ended ticketing 20 of our guest cars, those parking violations were so bogus. As the party started to end, I remember stepping over people knocked on the floor, the same song was on repeat as begin to clean up the bottles. Such a great party but downside was, we had to use the fireplace for 2/3 of that winter to keep the house warm since someone was grinding up against the wall and broke our thermostat.
Juan Carlos
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