Memories Of My 18th Birthday Celebration
I should have just bought some tables and chairs.
But no, I had a better thought. Or should I say my tight old man had a better idea.
His idea was to call everybody we ever met and beg them for chairs, tables and anything we could sit people on and serve food from.
What a way to enter my 21st year of life in Baker Avenue.
My first port of landing was the family across the road. From memory, they'd a shindig once and as The Back Fence Press correctly reported, there were "ample, clean and cushty seating among a fine choice of party franks, tiny meat pies and packet cabanossi." Obviously, Noelene Whittaker's 99th set a new benchmark for all birthday, baptism and bar mitzvah bashes to come.
So I crossed the divide between Continental Europe and Colonial Australia and politely asked Norma's eldest boy Nifty (a workman by sheer default of his nickname) if it would be cool if I borrowed a few chairs.
Maybe more than few. In actual fact all of them. And that collapsible trestle table, forever starbursted in Target catalogs, that supported the famous, bountiful harvest of Flemings fare that is oft-quoted at Xmas time by "true" residents of the street.
Only upon sealing the bargain with a mutual slap of shoulders did it become clear to me that suburban tradition dictated that this was predicted (read, essential) of the loanee to invite the loaner to aforementioned party.
If only "loaner" was not such a "loner" maybe I wouldn't have minded so much. You see I was inviting some 'babes ' and I did not really want the added responsibility (read, burden) of having to hold the hand of my Jack-of-all-trades neighbor. But then I started to think, he's Nifty: he'll work it out.
Once I had acquired generations of Brown Family possessions, I went on to make 1 or 2 phone calls.
Some family here, some friends there and before I knew it I had myself a diversified assortment of high school chairs (replete with saved prohibited chewing gum, dicks and boobs), fold-out chairs (complete with hippy stench and love in marks), brown plastic chairs (page 5 of previously mentioned advertising brochure "ON SALE THIS WEEK Only For $5.99 EACH OR $19.95 FOR 100), and extremely dangerous old wooden tables that tirelessly seek shaky revenge on junior, bold, inexperienced hands.
A quick stocktake of my hobo furniture and I believed I had all bums on seats accounted for.
But the Axis Power behind this offensive worked out more shrewdly. Even though I had satisfactory seating for all surrounding neighbours, official RSVPs, Family (who seemingly don't have to RSVP), Ones, and itinerant gate crashers (they are not so bad when they take a load off) - including an over-budget of somewhere in the area of 17% - my dictator father decided that he wouldn't be embarrassed by "his" guests eating and standing.
How was I to source any more free rump property now? I had exhausted all options. Or had I? My old man opened the old door to the old garage and pulled out some old paint cans and an old plank of wood and low and beh-old, a bench seat unsafely seating 19.5 children and the dog was trademarked. Now that's old school.
Now all I had to deal with was music, food, drinks, balloons, ice, The Cake (including novelty plastic giant key to my own house) and the required piece de resistance of any self-respecting Baker Avenue citizen: a copious supply of half hot wieners swimming in tepid tap water served chambré.
Destined to be the bain-marie of my existence for the next few weeks.
I should have just loaned some tables and chairs.
So you're throwing a party...then you probably need to check out dLook's range of party supplies, tables & chairs, and food warmers.
Musicman Axis Super Sport Cherry Sunburst for sale - Nevada Music UK
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