The Wangstas

Have you ever crashed a party? I think that everyone reading this has crashed a party in one way or another. I suppose the term "crash" suggests arriving uninvited AND unaware, but a party crash is technically just showing up to a party to which you were not explicitly invited. When I've crashed parties, I've always been welcome so it's not so big a deal. Now let me ask you...have you ever crashed a party when you weren't wanted there at all?

About eight years ago, my friend Shannon had a party at her parents' home while they were away on a trip or vacation of some sort. Shannon was visiting herself, as she was either living in Edmonton or Lethbridge at the time, so it's not like it was HER home in which to be throwing bashes. The party was just for a dozen or so of Shannon's closest friends, including myself. Everyone was really nice and friendly...my kind of people. Drinking was certainly occurring in the premises, but everyone was being responsible and it was just an all around good time. Knickerbitch was there, and even though she became homesick after about twenty minutes away from her family, she was pleasant and seemed to be having a good time. My awkward mingling was either appreciated or tolerated, and there was even some flirting with a few girls and me. It was a fun, low-key party.

For a while.

It doesn't matter how well you know your party guests, there's always that one who, either intentionally or accidentally, blabs around town about the fact that there is a part that (s)he is attending. No one at the party was aware of who did the blabbing, but come around 10PM, it was obvious that someone had spilled the beans. There wasn't even a knock on the door. The door simply whipped open and a dozen wiggas and gangstas, poured through the door with their booze and their joints and their "we belong here" attitudes. I swear to you...one of them even said "yo yo yo" when they came through the door. Airdrie wiggas were the lamest breed.

Anyway, these wangstas were loud, obnoxious, and disrespectful. Despite bringing their own booze, they began to tank back everything alcoholic in their site. Our my friends' expensive alcohol and food was being wasted by a bunch of nitwit douchebags with barely a brain cell between them. Some of the gangstas flopped on the sofa and watched television while others began exploring the home (for valuables, perhaps?). Enough was enough. Most of the guys (yes, including me) and several of the girls began to corral the crashers together and get them to leave. Oh there was fussing, feuding, fuck this and fuck that...for a few moments I thought some fists could fly too. After much "convincing," the crashers began to depart. So much vulgarity as they piled out the door and out of our mellow party. With the wangstas gone, the party continued uninterrupted.

About five or six of the partiers, myself included, stayed overnight. I had not been drinking much but I was just having fun. Plus, I think I was the only guy staying and the girls were concerned the crashers may return. In the morning, everyone got up and began recuperating from their hangovers. It was in the morning that Shannon needed her portable phone to call someone...and she couldn't find it. Shannon tore her house apart trying to find the phone. After all, it was her mum's phone and that's something not easily explained as to why it disappeared. The search went on and on but no luck. The phone handset was gone.

Shannon devised a cunning plan. She would go into Calgary and search stores for the same phone. Replacing the phone, her parents would be none the wiser. The only flaw to the plan was that the phone was a few years old and thus long since discontinued. Shannon asked if we wanted to help her on her epic hunt for the same model phone. Two of us decided to go with her. As we left the home and got ready to head to Calgary, someone noticed a piece of plastic on the driveway. Upon closer inspection, it was a piece of her portable phone. What? We looked up the street, and found piece after piece until we came to the bulk of the phone. The thing had been violently destroyed...torn apart by someone. It wasn't long until we realized the culprit was someone in that group of crashers. Who else would it have been? One of Shannon's good friends? Nah. The crasher got pissed that he was evicted, stole her phone, and busted it outside. WTF?

The search for a replacement was nothing short of pointless, aside from good times and good company on the journey. Shannon decided instead to just say she broke the phone and replaced it with a better one, which her parents accepted without question.

If ever you do crash a party and you're asked to leave, please understand there's probably a good reason. Maybe you're an idiot. Maybe you smell like the inside of a maggot's ass. Maybe you knocked up the party-thrower's best friend and then ran so to avoid responsibility for the child. Maybe it's a wake and you didn't know the deceased. Maybe you're not wearing clothes and it scares the people there. Or maybe you steal land line phones and smash them out of habit. Whatever the reasons, just smile, thank them for their time, and leave. There's always another party around the corner that you'll be evicted from.

P.S. Interestingly, the phone still picked up signal from its base and made the page beep. It wouldn't call out or receive calls...not that we'd want to be talking on a jagged piece of crap. Just thought you'd like to know.