By ROSIE WATERLAND
About a month ago, I was on the bus going home when it pulled up at a stop outside a restaurant that was having its staff Christmas party. Music was blaring and people had spilled out onto the footpath, drinks in hand. When the bus opened its doors, two of the party-dwellers jumped onboard and invited everyone to the party.
It went something like this: “PARTY issshhh hanapening! Come for fun timesh! EVERYONE isshh vited!” (That was my attempt at making them sound inebriated.) A few people on the bus laughed and said a friendly “no thanks”, and I thought that would be the end of it.
But to my utter shock and total incomprehension, a couple actually stood up and said “Yeah! We’ll go!” and jumped off the bus. Everyone at the party cheered while the couple shook hands with all their new friends and went inside. Other bus passengers clapped and told them to have a good time. All in all it was a joyous scene filled with good times and holiday cheer.
Yet all I could think was: “Ugh. What a nightmare. Why would you spontaneously go to a party where you don’t know ANYONE, when you could be at home in bed watching old Seinfeld episodes?”
Cue life-changing epiphany.
But first, a bit more context: This bus event came right on the back of my feelings being hurt when I heard a friend had been bitching about me because I never wanted to go out. I subsequently tried to write something for my blog saying something like, “Get over it. I just don’t like going out that much. Liz Lemon doesn’t either so suck it” etc etc blah blah blah. But when I got to the part in the piece where I had to explain why I don’t go out that much, I was stuck, because I didn’t have a definitive answer.