Don’t Ever Tell Me You Have a Boyfriend
I went to the last Halloween party because unfortunately, I was invited. I’m not a massive fan of Halloween parties. Nothing is more pretentious than a Halloween party. What are you, 4?
But I had to go, because, to quote Mike Ross from the Suits TV show, “Sometimes I like to hang out with people who aren’t that bright, you know, just to see how the other half lives.” After all, Mike Ross is the fictional character I identify most with. The fake Harvard Law School graduate — because he’s too good for Harvard.
Besides, my friend Marta was the host. She’s not your ordinary host. She’s freakier than Monica Geller from Friends. If I don’t go, she’ll ensure all hell and heaven break loose.
Because she was the host, not only I had to go to the party but also I had to ensure everyone she invited went to her party. My sales pitch to all our friends who refuse to go to the party? “Let me ask you something. You think I want to go to her stupid party? Put on some laughable costume and let’s get this over with. Look at my face! Do it for me!”
It works like a charm. Every single time. This way, I don’t have to manipulate anyone and live with the guilt forever.
