Word: doored
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Dates: during 1990-1999
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...inability to mock others. They told me I was on my period (Haha! See? Now why can't I do that with I-bankers?). Later I realized the truth: I was afraid. I was afraid of the enraged horde of budding consultants that would inevitably knock down my door, shouting invectives and threatening to stab me with their PalmPilot Styluses. I was afraid that a mob of investment bankers would conspire to give me brain cancer by surrounding me and calling each other with their cell phones. The truth of the matter was that I didn't want to deal...
...This is the story of the last Friday night, beginning with the first successful party crash, and ending as the door closes on Party Number...
...conversation. I think I know someone in the Signet, or maybe I know someone who knows someone in the Signet, or maybe it's their former roommate? In any event, I'm feeling literary and want to get the night started off right. I just walk up, find the door slightly ajar as a Signet member exits and make my entrance. The majority of people gather in the salon, a large room towards the back of the house. White wine flows freely into glasses (no plastic cups are to be found). As the mysterious stares multiply, I fortunately spy someone...
...Though we can hear music and people inside the Adams G suite, and though I had secured an actual invitation to this event while chatting at the Signet, we are forced to knock repeatedly before the door is unlocked for us. Once inside, I instantly pounce on Max Hirsch, the birthday boy, who, though the party seems to be at a subdued level, is anticipating much "busting of asses" on the dance floor. His friend agrees, "The night is but a fetus; I am predicting that later on people will be busting multiple asses...
...Realizing I will most likely be forced to miss the actual busting, I bust internally to the beat of Britney Spears' "Baby One More Time" as I head out the door...