Oooh, fun! A date! Just what I need to cheer myself up.
FTLOUIE: Going out with you.
SKINNERBX: That’s what I was hoping you’d say. Only how about staying in instead of going out? My mom and dad are going out of town for a conference, and Maya’s got to have her feet scraped, so they asked me if I could come home for the weekend to stay with Lilly—you know, on account of what happened last time they left her alone.
Did I ever. Because the last time the Drs. Moscovitz let Lilly out of their sight, when they went to their country house in Albany for the weekend and allowed Lilly to stay in the apartment alone because she had a report due on Alexander Hamilton and needed Internet access, of which there is none at their country house, and Michael had finals, and the Moscovitzes’ housekeeper, Maya, had to go back to the Dominican Republic to bail her nephew out of jail again, so neither of them could stay with her, Lilly invited her foot fetishist stalker, Norman, over to interview him for a segment she was doing on Lilly Tells It Like It Is titled, “Why Are Only Weirdos Attracted to Me?”
Well, Norman took umbrage at being called a weirdo, even though that’s what he is. He insisted that a healthy appreciation for the foot is actually extremely sane. Then when Lilly was busy getting them Cokes in the kitchen, he snuck into her mom’s room and stole her favorite pair of Manolo Blahniks!
But Lilly saw the stiletto heel sticking out of Norman’s anorak pocket and made him give it back. Norman was so mad about the whole thing that now he’s started his own website, IHateLillyMoscovitz.com, that has message boards and stuff that all the people who hate Lilly and her show can come and post things on (and it turns out there are a surprising number of people who hate Lilly and her TV show. Plus, there are some people who don’t even know who Lilly is but they joined just because they hate everything).
I have to say, after all that, I’m kind of surprised the Drs. Moscovitz would leave her without parental supervision, even with Michael there.
FTLOUIE: Fun! I’ll totally come over! What are we going to do? Watch a movie marathon?
Only, please, not a screening of one of the hideous movies he has to watch for that sci-fi film class he’s taking. He’s already forced me to see Brazil, one of the most depressing movies of all time. Can Blade Runner, another giant bummer of a movie, be far behind?
FTLOUIE: Oooh, how about we watch the high school seasons of Buffyon DVD? I just love the prom episode, when she gets the twinkly parasol…
SKINNERBX: Actually, I was kind of thinking of having a party.
Wait. A what? Did he say…PARTY?
FTLOUIE: A party?
SKINNERBX: Yeah. You know. A party. An occasion on which people assemble for social interaction and entertainment? We can’t really have parties here in the dorm because no one’s room is big enough to fit more than, like, eight people. But three times that many can fit in my parents’ apartment. So I figured, why not?
Why not? WHY NOT? Because we are not party people, Michael. We are stay-at-home-and-watch-videos people. Doesn’t he remember what happened last time we had a party? Or, more accurately, the last time I had a party?
And I could tell he wasn’t talking about Cheetos and Seven Minutes in Heaven, either. He was talking about a COLLEGE party. Everyone knows what happens at COLLEGE parties. I mean, I have seen Animal House (because it, along with Caddyshack, is one of Mr. G’s favorite movies of all time, and every time it’s on he HAS to watch it, even if it’s on one of those channels where they cut all the dirty parts out, which leaves it with practically no plot).
FTLOUIE: I am not, under any circumstances, wearing a toga.
SKINNERBX: Not that kind of party, you goof. Just a normal one, you know, with music and food. Next week’s midterms, and everybody needs to blow off a little steam beforehand. And Doo Pak has never been invited to a real American party before, you know.
When I heard this startling fact about Michael’s roommate, my hard, party-hating heart melted a little. Never been invited to a real American party before! That was just shocking! Of COURSE we had to have a party, if only to show Doo Pak what real American hospitality is like. Maybe I could make a vegetarian dip.
SKINNERBX: And remember Paul? Well, he’s back in the city, and so are Felix and Trevor, so they’re going to come over.
My heart stopped melting. It’s not that I don’t like Paul, Felix, and Trevor, all members of Michael’s now-defunct band, Skinner Box. It’s just that I happen to know that, while Paul, the keyboardist, is back from Bennington, where he goes to school, because of spring break, Felix, the drummer, just got out of rehab (not that there’s anything wrong with that, really, I’m glad he got help, but, um, hello, rehab at eighteen? Scary.). And Trevor, the guitar player, is back because he got kicked out of UCLA for something so scandalous he won’t even tell people what it was.
These are just not the kind of friends who, in my opinion, you want to come over when your parents aren’t home. Because they might “accidentally” light the place on fire. That’s all I’m saying.
SKINNERBX: And I thought I’d invite a bunch of other people from the dorm.
A bunch of other people from the dorm?
My heart stopped melting even more. Because I know what that means: Girls.
Because there are girls in Michael’s dorm. I have seen them in the hallways when I’ve gone to visit him there. They wear a lot of black clothing, including berets—BERETS!—and quote lines from The Vagina Monologues and never read Us Weekly, even when they’re in a doctor’s office. I know because I once mentioned seeing Jessica Simpson without her makeup on in this one issue and they all just looked at me blankly. They’re just like those girls from Legally Blonde who were very mean to Elle when she got to law school because they thought that just because she’s blond and likes clothes, she must be stupid.
I myself have encountered this kind of prejudice from these girls, since, being blond and a princess, they just automatically assume I must be stupid. I so know what poor Princess Diana must have dealt with every single day.
I do not think I could handle being at a party with girls like this. Because girls like this know how to act at parties. They know how to smoke and drink beer.
I hate smoking. And beer smells just like that skunk that Papaw hit with the station wagon that time we were coming home from the Indiana state fair.
What is Michael thinking? I mean, a party. This is so not him.
Then again, college is a time for self-exploration and finding out who you really are and what you want to do with your life.
Oh my God! What if he’s into partying now???? Partying is a very large part of the college experience. At least, according to all those movies on the Lifetime Channel in which either Kellie Martin or Tiffani-Amber Thiessen star as coeds campaigning to shut down the fraternity house at which their friend or roommate was date-raped and/or choked to death on her own vomit.
Which isn’t the kind of party Michael’s talking about. Right?
Wait. Michael’s parents wouldn’t LET him have a party like that. Even if he wanted to. Which I’m sure he doesn’t. Because Michael can’t stand fraternities, since he says he can’t help but feel suspicious of any heterosexual male who would pay to belong to a club that females are not permitted to join.
Speaking of the Drs. Moscovitz:
FTLOUIE: Michael, do your parents know about this? This party, I mean?