Party Survival Guide

Party invitations getting you down? Is there stuff that you just have to attend, can’t decline? Weddings, reunions, gatherings — parties are fun until they’re not.

I give you these helpful tips to survive the forced cheer of gathering humans.

You’re welcome.

• When dressing for the affair, comfort is paramount. You’ll probably be miserable, at least some of the time, so you may as well be comfortable. You’ll also need to add something cute in the unlikely event that things get interesting. Better that the wit sparkles in great shoes or a bit of décolletage.
• Smile upon entry, have something in your hand, pretend to be thrilled to be at this possibly (but probably not) fabulous event.
• Find the bathroom immediately. This is your safe room.
• Grab a drink — wine, bubbles or beer — stay away from the hard stuff. Unless you’re avoiding the light stuff, as well, in which case you grab something — anything — to clutch in your hand and suck on in moments of awkward silence or extreme anxiety.
• Eat the snacks. Crudité, because veggies. And please, call it ‘crudity’ — because it means, ‘the quality of being rudimentary or makeshift’. Exactly. Protein, because alcohol. Cocktail weiners, because ‘cocktail+weiner’.
• That amazingly dense dark chocolate tart with the shortbread crust that you made to contribute to the party? Leave it at home. You’ll want it in the morning with coffee and the dessert table is already groaning. No one will notice. Take a bottle of bubbly with a sparkly ribbon throttling its neck — it’s festive and the $10 is so worth it to feed and entertain you for the evening.
• Wander - it helps to quell anxiety. Mingle, change venues, don’t lock on faces. Bounce to the beat (the one in your head works in a pinch) as you move festively from room to room, saying hello and such to the necessary players, and when you find a comfy place with a seat and a person you can deal with, settle.
• Go to the bathroom. Decompress. Shake your arms and blow air, look at yourself in the mirror and pep talk your way into another foray into the fray. Don’t forget to pee.
• If you are there with a partner, moniter them. Are they eating the right foods, imbibing too much, leaning into the wrong people? Stuff cocktail weiners in his/her mouth, inquire about that beverage and interrupt inappropriate conversation. This is called ‘love’.
• Do not talk about your back pain. Felix will talk about his back pain and Darlene will bring up her sciatica and a stranger will begin a much too personal dissertation on digestion and it will become a chain of pain. (I’m assuming here, of course, that your parties look like mine, where all guests are between the ages of 40–75, the young people have made their escape, and everyone overshares).
• Have a party trick, a thing to break ice and lighten moods (perfect for frigid, moody February in the northeast). My go-to party trick is ‘quiet indignation’, though it is not, admittedly, a very popular one.
• Finally, and most importantly, remember that you don’t have to do this. You can stay home, eat that tart and drink that bubbly. Select something to watch or read or just climb in that big bed and do whatever you do there. Parties are optional.

Author’s note — No one invites me to parties anymore, because I opted for that last thing too often. Be careful — if you never go, the invites will stop. Which could be fine, actually. Quiet indignation works better at home, anyway.