The dreaded 'Request Invitation' button - Whitney's Notes
I set aside a night I could heavily stalk friends on Facebook and those not wise enough to block their profiles from curious strangers. For the first time, I loved everything about the overly informative news and mini feeds. \nI found parties but then realized that I was facing a greater demon. "Request Invitation" — that pathetic little link I had always scowled at in the past. What self-respecting person would dare to click it? I had always pondered that question but never thought I myself would be the answer to it. Yet, I parted ways with the little Facebook pride I had left, and clicked that button on several shameful occasions. By Friday, my event list rivaled that of an A-list celebrity.
"Offensive T-Shirt Party" Friday, 11:30 p.m.\nThis party attracted the drama/theatre crowd, and, as expected, it was loud, fun and different. Not one religious, racial, cultural or political group was spared on the outlandish white Hanes T-shirts that attendees donned. I felt very out of place in my silky halter top. At one point, the cops came. \n"EVERYONE. THE. COPS. ARE. HERE. PLEASE BE QUIET AND GO INTO ONE OF THE BEDROOMS."\nI felt like a freshman at a frat during an Intrafraternity Council lockdown as I hid out praying the police would go away. As soon as they were gone, I fled the scene.
"Screw I-Core, Let's Get drunk!" Saturday, 11:00 p.m.\nAfter a stressful week of I-Core exams, these business students appeared to be unwinding successfully. Most congregated in the kitchen around a massive table to play round after round of beer pong, interrupted only by shots of watermelon vodka. Upon discovering that I was writing a story for WEEKEND, a few attendees decided they wanted to do something that would, as they said, "make the paper." A 10-foot beer bong later, a girl had made the paper. Joining in with the cheering party enthusiasts gathered around her as she funneled three Keystone Lights in less than 20 seconds, I felt a sense of comradery with the B-schoolers I had met who had certainly screwed I-Core and gotten drunk.
"16th and Washington" Sunday, 12:30 a.m. \nI went alone, knowing no one. I approached the house with my phone glued to my ear in hopes of faking importance and avoiding human interaction. After entering, I was awkwardly squeezed between a girl with an impressive evil glare and a boy struggling for balance. At least 90 sweaty people were stuffed into the tiny space. There was a great attraction in the corner of the living room that most everyone gravitated around: the blessed kegs. A group of guys behind me yelled "SOCIAL!!!!" and proceeded to "Chug, Chug, Chug," reaffirming to everyone in sight they were, in fact, drinking alcohol socially at a party. An individual with red Solo cups in his coat-jacket pockets yelled "$3 a cup!" and flashed a sympathetic smile at me. After getting doused in beer and making no new friends, I grew bored and left.
Although I don't intend to plan my weekends based on the parties I find splattered on my friends' news feeds, I might suggest a technique to anyone in truly desperate need of something to do: Although I mostly felt welcome at the parties, I would highly recommend bringing friends. Finally, I will probably never advertise an event on Facebook after realizing that the same creepies that send you random messages, pokes or friend requests might just show up at your doorstep ready to party.
What not to wear on a Facebook Crawl - Matt's Notes
The age-old question: What do you wear to the party? It's a dilemma any weekend, but that night, it was even more confounding. I'd be crashing some very different Facebook parties with very different crowds, and I wanted to try to fit in at all of them.\nAt first, a Polo seemed like the natural choice, but then I thought it might be too preppy. Next I pulled out a grey sweater. \nI was feeling good about my choice until I ran into a friend that afternoon: "Hey Matt, wow, you really look like a journalism major." \nI was floored. I hadn't even told her about my neurosis concerning neutral clothes, and she totally called me out.\nBack to the drawing board. \nAfter pulling out more shirts than I care to mention, I finally decided on an oxford shirt with corduroy pants.\nIt may not have been neutral, but at least I looked good.
"SIX Quarts of CHILI" Friday, 10:21 p.m.\nA girl answered the door, and after examining the empty room behind her, I asked if I was in the right place for the party. She smiled, said it was and invited me in without asking who I was, as if random people crashed all their parties.\nAnyway, after explaining who I was, I entered to find 12 people (and a pretty sweet cat) sitting around eating chili, which was fantastic.\nThen I met Al. After asking my name a couple times, he finally gave up and asked: "Can we just call everyone one name?"\nI laughed.\nHe, on the other hand, was completely serious. I know this because we ended up discussing it in quite some depth.\nAfter we took turns suggesting names (Joe and Mary were decided on), Al asked if I wanted to know how to "throw anyone off."\nI stared at him for a minute. \nThen, Al reached for my ear.\nI quickly backed up, feeling quite uncomfortable with someone attempting anything anywhere near my ears. Apparently, that was his point.
"The Official Offensive T-Shirt Party" Friday, 12:10 a.m.\nAfter finding the owner and explaining who I was, I was quickly rushed inside. Apparently, there was a cop nearby, and the hosts didn't want anyone outside to raise suspicion.\n"Can you all listen up?!" the resident bellowed. "There happens to be a cop outside, so if you could all be quiet, so I don't go to jail."\nCan you say paranoid?\nPretty soon the room emptied as people headed into the back bedrooms. Clearly, we were working with criminal masterminds here. The cops would never think to open a door and check for more people.\nI wanted to stick around to watch the party get busted, but it soon became apparent that it wasn't going to happen.
"Birthday Weekend Extravaganza!!!" Saturday, 12:24 a.m.\nThis clearly was the biggest party.\nNot sure how to find the owner, I walked in the front door and screened the room for someone who looked like they knew what was going on.\nAll of the sudden, I heard someone yell, "Matt? Matt Peyton?"\nIt was a friend from high school who I hadn't seen in three years. She took me to find the girl who's birthday it was and she said we were free to stay.\nI'm glad she did because this was far and away the best party of the night.\nThere was an amazing homemade bar with someone tending it, a foosball table, a card table and plenty of room to mingle.\nThere were also some deep, political debates about the supposed anti-American implications of some U.S. currency.\n"Sacagawea was a hard ass," seemed to end the debate.\n \nWe tried to get to one more party, but upon entering the kitchen I made three observations. First, I was the only person not wearing all black. Second, I was the only person without a single piercing on my face. Third, it reeked of pot.\nI've never left a party faster, but while driving away, something occurred to me. Those people would have felt just as out of place at the Birthday Weekend Extravaganza as I did in their kitchen. I guess parties are just like the people that attend them. Every one is different.\nSo I guess the goal of wearing something appropriate for all the parties was unrealistic. But you know what?\nAt least I looked good.
