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The No Pants Party was a dream born about a year ago with a picture that inspired Emily like nothing else has ever done before. She had been photo stalking an old classmate of hers when she ran across that unforgettable image. It was a picture of a man who had chosen to slide his legs through the arms of a sweatshirt and belt the thing securely around his waist. It was an alternative to classic bottoms such as Emily had never seen before, and in that moment she had a dream. A dream of a night where no one would wear pants. Jill, a famous hater of the tight and confining nature of pants was an easy convert. Soon, like Jehovah’s Witnesses, they began spreading their message, and in the following year they would ask all their friends, family members and not a few strangers what their thoughts on a No Pants Party were, and the answer was an almost unanimous YES! The one hold out, it seemed, was me.
Emily: Katie what do you think about a No Pants Party?
Katie: No.
Emily: What do you mean No?
Katie: I mean I'm not that into it.
Jill: But all our friends, family, and not a few strangers love the idea.
Katie: I'm honestly not into it.
Jill: You do realize it's not an underwear party right, it's more an anything but pants party.
Emily: You could wear a sweatshirt ON YOUR LEGS!
Jill: Or skirts, but that's kind of lame.
Emily: Or a sweatshirt-
Jill: Yes we know.
Katie: Why don't we have a MacGyver Party then? Where everyone has to wear something they've made themselves.
Emily: Well that's basically what a No Pants Party is.
Katie: No it's not.
Emily: Come on, you can wear your very pretty dress.
Katie: This is happening isn't it?
Jill and Emily: YES.
Katie: When.
Jill: Someday.
Emily: Soon.
Plans came together almost a year later, after many repeats of the previous conversation. The timing seemed perfect. Angela and Tracy were coming up from New York. Work had finally slowed down for Jill and her co-workers. And Emily had a new idea.
Emily: I'm going to wear a HUla skirt.
Katie: A HUULLa skirt?
Emily: Yes. I want to wear one. It's time to have the No Pants Party.
Katie: I see.
Jill also had a particular outfit in mind.
Jill: I want to wear my tiny running shorts.
Emily: The very tiny running shorts?
Jill: Yes.
Emily: I'm not sure that's as good as a HUULa skirt.
Katie: You know what you need. Some of those knee high socks with stripes at the top.
Emily: And your slipper sneakers.
Katie: And a sweatband.
Jill: You two just want me to look like a jackass.
Emily: NO!
Katie: Preposterous Notion. And the sweatband should preferably be rainbow striped.
And so Emily and Jill sent out the invitations.
Invitations in our apartment are always a contentious subject. Emily and Jill spend hours planning the perfect wording, choosing the perfect photo, and figuring out the perfect guest list. Then I get yelled at and threatened for not using FaceBook to RSVP. I hate FaceBook. But Emily and Jill can be scary. So my principles were sacrificed and I RSVPed.
I ended up being late to the party because, popular as I am, I had to make an appearance at another friend's birthday. The Birthday Party had been fun and I was a bit hesitant to leave. There hadn't been that many RSVPs for the No Pants Party, most of my friends couldn't make it, Angela had had to stay in New York, Jill hadn't sprung for the sweatband, and I really just didn't know what to expect. But again, fearing the wrath of those who know where I sleep, I returned to find five of my friends sitting in awkward silence around our dining room table. On the bright side, Steve and Pierce had not only embraced the party's theme but they had taken their outfits to whole new levels of intensity. Wearing towels safety pinned over their boxers and Hawaiian shirts, they had further accessorized with inflatable rafts, pool floaties on their arms, zinc oxide on their noses, and goggles other heads. In comparison, my swim suit and beach sarong felt like slacking. To prove my worth to the party gods, even if I was still not fully in love with the "No Pants" theme, I made punch. I made strong punch. When more guests arrived I made Shark Attacks. I made really strong Shark Attacks. And the party kicked off. Everyone, with the exception of me and possibly Tracy went from zero to drunk in about a half hour.
I like to break the rest of the party up into three parts.
Part one; "The Mingling."
Slowly the guests arrived, the most memorable of these being Chad, Emily's intern who was wearing a Trader Joe's bag around his waist and had ingeniously, if creepilly, taped Starburst candies to his lap. On his entrance, the girls, followed by Pierce, swarmed his crotch in order to gently pull off the candies. Pierce was less gentle, his quick aggressive snatches at the Starbursts were a vain attempt to preserve his self respect. I am very proud of the fact that I did not have one Starburst all night.
This part of the evening was mostly polite conversation, introductions and a nice trip to the roof to see the stars and ruin some poor couple's romantic night. Low key and fun.
Part two, "The Mess."
On our return to the apartment, the number of guests had suddenly doubled. Jill's IPod had been replaced by Tracy's more party themed one, and the drinking games had started. I may, and by may I mean most certainly did, contribute to "the mess" by dumping 2/3 of a bottle of mango rum into the punch bowl, adding the remainder of the juice and pretending it was fit for consumption. I call this part of the evening the mess for a reason. Memorable or not so memorable events from "the mess" include:
Pierce whipping off his towel in one fluid motion to clean up the bourbon and coke he'd spilled all over the kitchen floor.
Pierce being forced to wear a Sleeping Beauty Disney towel with the princess' face strategically placed.
The burning of the Penis Candle. Yes we had a penis candle.
A Game Called "Three Man" that mostly consisted of Steve telling us that he had to drink again.
Older Curly haired girl going home with someone and leaving her much drunker younger sister in our collective care.
Emily and Pierce dancing for a long time in front of Paris in Oils. Their dance moves will never be featured in a music video but they had so much enthusiasm.
Steve repeatedly slapping his tautly wound towel like a bongo drum and announcing, "You could chop wood on this!" Since when, wondered the party, had chopping wood been the test for tightly wound towel?
The concluding part of our evening I like to call "The Third Wind."
People started to leave during this time, and the party dwindled to the original core members plus Chad. It was at this point that we got our third wind. Where the energy came from I don't know, but at 2 a.m. we were still going. Hula skirts and towels were discarded, and after one bad snatch for a starburst, Chad's Trader Joe’s bag was ripped by Pierce off Chad's waist, and the party, in what should have been its dying hour, turned into a dance party.
"We can dance if We want to!" pronounced Men without Hats. And men and women without pants suddenly were on their feet (some of us more readily than others). We preformed all the moves that made us famous: "The Shower;" "Mac's Dance from It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia;" "The Liz Lemon;" and Emily's favorite Reno 911 inspired hand jive. Pierce and Steve turned out to be an amazing duo...though the ass slapping got a little out of hand. Jill had to interrupt many a fake fight.
Steve also impressed us with his French. And by that I mean that he wrapped his discarded towel around his neck like a scarf and began talking rapidly in French and pretending to smoke a cigarette. I've been assured that what he was saying was actually French, but it sounded like Foux de Fa Fa to me.
Eventually even our energy, with the notable exception of Chad, died down. Jill curled up on top of Steve. Tracy curled up on top of Jill. Pierce curled up on top of Emily and I curled up in the blue chair, and Chad demanded IPods.
Chad took the music selection very seriously.
Chad: What’s your favorite song of all time?
Chad: What's your favorite band of all time?
Chad: What is the song that sums up your Senior Year of college?
Chad: Who's IPod is this?! I think I love it!
Chad: What's the password for this IPhone?
Chad: Does anybody like The Roots?
Chad: What's your favorite dance song of all time?
Katie: You're very demanding.
My subtle hint in no way slowed him down, or stopped him from cranking up the music, or falling in love with Jill's iPod and declaring his love every few minutes, or kept him from showing off his soccer movies with sofa pillows.
Chad: How can Hootie & the Blowfish be on a list of bands that include The Rolling Stones and Led Zeppelin?
Katie: I'm going to punch you in the face.
Chad: What?
Katie: I said I'm going to bed.
It was at four in the morning when I decided I better excuse myself from the room. The others followed thirty minutes later...I'm convinced they lasted longer simply because they were too comfortable to move.
The party was the stuff of legends. Sure nobody wore a sweatshirt on their legs, and Jill didn't wear that rainbow colored sweatband, but everything else more than made up for that. I'm sure other things happened that I neglected to share here which were more memorable to other people, or maybe not. I made those drinks really strong.