(Note: These descriptions are not of specific people from this weekend’s parties, just a compilation of my general party-going experiences). Throw your hands up in the air like you just don't care, and here we go...
The Star – this is the person who lives for Saturday night. This party gives him or her the chance to be the center of attention without seeming like a total a-hole. When people are drunk and in need of entertainment this person delivers, but in a way that makes you say to your friend “wow, the vodka makes him seem really talented!” You know that when the Star throws a party for his best friend, parents, or significant other, the real motivator was that he or she developed a new dance move, learned the words to the new Britney, or figured out how to incorporate juggling into the routine. This person is often secretly somewhat douche-y but hides it well – that is, until Saturday night rolls around.

The Muncher – this is the girl who parks herself by the snacks and remains there for the
duration of the party, only to take quick breaks to dance and ensure that someone takes a picture of her dancing so no one remembers she spent 85% of the night with her hands in the Cheetos. The Muncher hits up the Chex mix first, picking out all the peanuts. The Muncher dips Cheez-Doodles in the Con Queso with reckless abandon (note: yes, I know con queso means “with cheese” but among my friends it is a proper noun describing a stomach blocking, neon yellow bowl of fun). This girl judges the goodness of the party by whether or not she leaves with her hands completely orange.

The Hoovers – this is the couple that comes to a party, seemingly for the sole purpose of sucking face all night (hence, the name Hoovers – how clever am I?). Why do you come to a party to do something you could do in your bedroom at home? No one knows, but what they do know is that the Hoovers stop by and what you see of them all night is a rolling tumbleweed of tongues and butt-grabbing. The Hoovers usually think they are a very “hot” couple and perhaps this is why they think people want to see them make out all night. We don’t. You’re gross. Go home.

The Girl Clan – we all know what this is, and I admit I’ve been guilty of being a part of it. This is the crew of girls who cannot be separated, as though their remaining intact is critical to the survival of mankind. Nothing can separate this dedicated group – from powerhour, to dancing, to late night vomiting, the only thing that can tear these girls apart is when the party ends. Or when a hot guy talks to one of them. Or when the new case of Keystone Lite comes around. Or when the Muncher has her Cheetos taken away, prompting a kitchen rampage.
The Groper – this is the guy who is blackout drunk within what seems like 10 minutes of his
arrival and from there on out, feels up anything breathing. He gets inappropriately close to guys, whispering in their ears and leaving a drool train. He hugs everyone, even when someone is leaving to go to the bathroom. He goes up to a group of girls and somehow has touched every breast in the group by the time he moves on. This is the guy who tells you he knows where the “secret bathroom” is – and tries to accompany you. He’s a total creeper and should be avoided at all times. Unless, you know, you like that sort of thing.


Please feel free to add more "types" that I may have overlooked. I was so overwhelmed this weekend that I might have missed out on some less obvious, yet equally amusing party characters.
Lindsay
2 comments:
Other common personalities may include:
- The Smoker: He's your go-to guy when you crave a cigarette, and is just generally always up for smoking. He probably spends 50% of time outside.
- The Smiling Quiet Drunk Guy: He's the one that is pressed up against a wall with a smile on his face that he himself doesn't understand.
Not as common personalities may include:
- Mr. WTF: The guy who you barely know, but takes a shit in your bathroom.
- The Massage Her Until I Get Into Her Pants Guy: You will find him massaging the drunk girl , because he's just waiting for the right moment to escalate and take advantage.
Why do I feel like "the muncher" was based on me and my actions this weekend with the author?
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