Few nights deserve a full expository column as much as this past Saturday. Unfortunately, for you at least, I'm not going to write one of those. But all is not lost...instead, I'll give you an uncharacteristically cocky Sportcenter-style, Top 10 theme column. That's got to count for something:
TOP 10 THINGS I DID ON SATURDAY (BEFORE MIDNIGHT) IN (NEARLY) CHRONOLOGICAL ORDER
10) Proved my friendship - For those of you who don't know, let me explain Saturday night's activity. The Rice Engineering Society was reinstating an old tradition and throwing a formal called the EBall. The event was supposed to bring together Rice students, alumni, and professors for a night of dinner, drinking, and dancing at the Momentum Jaguar car dealership. Even though it boasted an open bar, this is the type of event that I'd usually avoid like my Property class. So why was I there? Loyalty to Liz and Alex.
4-21-04 - Kevin on Running
4-20-04 - Some Thoughts
4-19-04 - NBA Review/Preview
4-18-04 - Reena's Guest Column
4-17-04 - Poking Fun
4-16-04 - The Tonkawa Incident
4-15-04 - Sarah's Guest Column
Archives
1) Jealous Guy - Elliot Smith (Lennon cover)
2) Rape Me - Nirvana
3) I Was Just Thinking - Teitur
4) Cmon Baby - Bob Schneider
5) Get in the Van - 2 Skinnee J's
6) About Her - Malcolm McLaren
7) Let Go - Frou Frou
8) Dig Through My Window - Guided by Voices
9) Secret - Maroon 5
10) The Bronze Beached Boys - Pas/Cal
9) Did the most awesomest parking job of my entire life - I wish someone had videotaped it so I could watch it on those cold, lonely nights.
8) Made an entrance - Still positively giddy from my parallel parking success, I was ready to be "Glenn on 9" (Love me some Real World). Within ten minutes, I had sang a song, played the drums, and received fellatio from a metal jaguar. The manic side was out in force.
7) Failed miserably at a dare - From my first few conversations with people at the party, it quickly became apparent that I wasn't the only one who feared the night could be less than spectacular. Someone made the comment that with Jeff out of town, someone suggested that I needed to go all out to be the life of the party. With a nod towards Azerbaijan, I decided that I'd become the "Jeff of Houston, when the real Jeff is off in Canadian wine country". To earn the title, Hari reiterated an earlier promise to pay me $50 if I made out with a girl in one of the showroom's cars. Rob McD offered to double it if it happened during dinner. Two stipulations were made: 1) I could not have known her before that night (stupid Easter Beer Hunt) and 2) I could not tell her about the bet. I thought of a few loopholes, but I basically lost my focus and never came through. Convincing a sober girl with a date to make out with you in full public view is not as easy as you'd imagine.
6) Hung out with Rob McD - What kind of guy thinks to bring a flask of Maker's to an event with an open bar? Rob, that's who. Believe me, Rob quickly moved up my list of favorite people when the open bar wasn't open to anyone but Michelle for the first hour and a half. I totally feel like our friendship is pretty one sided...he is always hooking me up with all of life's pleasures. I definitely owe him a drink or twelve.
5) Spilled my drink on a girl...again - I was carrying drinks for Michelle and I when an end table magically materialized in front of me. Using my Yao-like balance, I recovered without falling...but not before dumping my Coke on some random girl's formal. I apologized profusely, but she wasn't having any other. Hari (who hadn't seen this happen) walked up a minute later. Attempting to make his move, he says to the girl "That's a rough way to start the night, having someone spill all over your dress". Thanks...dick.
4) Led a movie-style line dance - The DJ played the 70's anthem "Staying Alive" and Michelle quipped that we should dance John Travolta style. To my alcohol impaired brain, this sounded like a fantabulous(Love me some Van Morrison) idea. I convinced Mirv, Hari, Cheryl, Jeff N., Matt, and his fiance to join me on the empty dance floor in front of a room of 350 diners. Ahh, disco revolution. And, yes, this was every bit as painful to watch as it sounds.
3) Danced the full contact tango - Michelle and I tore up the dance floor all night long. Two memories particularly stick out. During our first dance, after we tripped all over the dance floor populated with former ballroom LPAP students, I dipped her in front of Alex, who totally whiffed on his chance to kiss her. Get on the ball, Fay. Laterin the evening, they played a tango. To make a dance that we didn't know how to do more interesting, we decided to play tango hockey. This basically consisted of attempting to bodycheck other couples. This was a sorta funny thing to do to our friends, a not so funny thing to do to complete strangers.
2) Instituted the VIP line - Two very nice, but very understaffed, bartenders were trying to take care of the drink needs for a party full of lushes. Despite there best efforts, this resulted in fifteen to twenty minute drink lines. Now who really has that much time? After waiting through this line once, it suddenly occurred to me that I was at a party populated by Rice-affiliated people...the most passive, non-confrontational species there is. Since I don't care about my reputation as much as I used to, I decided that lines were very optional. For the remainder of the night, I would always walk straight to the front of the line. This was an especially helpful idea (thanks Michelle) at dinner time. Sure, I was on the recieving end of a lot of glares, but who has hours to waste in line?
1) Played a mean pointman - Everyone is familiar with the wingman concept, but not everyone is familiar with the more difficult role of pointman. Where a wingman just has to remain moderately interesting to keep a girl distracted, a pointman has to be the center of all of the night's action. A pointman recruits girls to a group and often sells himself before selling his friends. He is required to keep the conversation flowing, gradually moving away from being the center of attention and instead setting up his friends for their best stories. Like John Stockton, you have to know exactly where each likes to catch the ball. Jeff, when moderately sober, usually does a solid job in this role and I think I had a 15 point, 18 assist game on Saturday, but one example of this stands above all others. Although I wasn't present for it, Jeff often tells the legend of the night that Chien owned the Davenport. One night last year, everyone was having an average, quiet night out. People started trickling off, leaving only Chien, H.R., and Jeff at the bar. Chien starts mingling with the girls at the next table. A few minutes later, he starts talking up another adjacent table. Continuing this pattern, he eventually has everyone in the bar with their chairs in a big circle around him. Chien remained at the center telling stories and ordering drinks and making sure that everyone was involved. Jeff says that he has never seen a bar turn from lifeless to raucous so quickly. And for that, Chien, I salute you.
