Judging by your feedback by last episode’s call for your stories of parties on a par with menarche parties, people all over the world are fighting for their right to party in a way that makes everyone they know feel very uncomfortable. Rachel from Fife:
I have once been to a Titanic-themed party, hosted by some neighbours who always hold a themed party to celebrate New Year. In finding this choice slightly odd and as a teenager feeling determined to not enjoy any social event also attended by my parents, I opted for jeans and an ‘I Heart NY’ t-shirt, while others donned fancy dresses and painted themselves blue.
Rachel also points out that, if you actually like the sound of this party, and you’ve got spare funds and a strong conviction in the notion that lightning doesn’t strike twice, you might want to set sail on a Titanic Memorial Cruise. Frozen DiCaprio not included.
We’d've steered clear of the party bags and the finger buffet at the party Dave in Cardiff went to:
The weirdest party I’ve ever been to was an ‘I’m about to get a shag” party. Allow me to explain.
When she was 16, one of my old school friends became delusional and convinced she could to talk to a ghost. She thought she’d fallen in love with the ghost and wanted to be with him for the rest of her life and even afterwards when she would become a ghost too.
But, she still wanted to have kids, and her ghost boyfriend wanted her to be happy. So they came to the arrangement that she could have a human boyfriend. However, the ghost was still jealous and made her promise not to have sex until she’d a made commitment to the ghost as her ‘main’ boyfriend. She found another nut-case who believed in the ghost. He arranged this frankly bizarre ritual, where my friend and her boyfriend had their relationship approved by the ghost at a big party. To which I was invited.
There was lots of singing and chanting, a big meal and disco, but the climax of the day was at the end when my friend and her boyfriend said goodbye to everyone and went off to have their first fuck together. To make matters worse, my friend had not just invited mates to this ‘prelude to banging’ party but also her family.
The whole thing made me very uncomfortable but even more so because everyone else seemed to think it was normal. At the end of the evening when my friend and her boyfriend left to have coitus, I had to rush outside to be sick.
To make matters worse I’ve got another three of these shag parties to go to before the end of the year.
It may seem weird now, Dave, but in a couple of decades, ghost sex parties will be so normalised as to be passé. And then maybe Ang Lee will make a film about one.