April 22, 2006

Fun Du Chapitre

Last night Adrienne and I threw our last party together (*sniff*), an end-of-term, improv-sponsored, farewell blowout for McGill Improv's five departing members:



When I say improv-sponsored, I mean we used some of the leftover cash from our various events this year to buy three cases of beer for the assembled masses. I love student organisations.

The absolute most entertaining part of the night, though, came not from any of our invited guests or from the net effect of so much alochol, but rather from 'Mr Party', which is what we dubbed this drunken fellow (centre) who staggered in from the street in a foggy stupor, totally by himself and without any clue as to what was going on or where he was supposed to be:



Eventually, after he had wandered around the apartment for a few minutes, we took him out into the lobby to see if we could find his friend's name on the intercom. The so-called 'Pamela' he alleged to be visiting was not listed (ie. did not live in the building), so instead (and I'm not totally proud of this) we told him that she lived upstairs, walked him into the stairwell, then left him there and ran back to our apartment, locking the door behind us.

And we thought that would be that, but people were going to and fro so that they could smoke outside, and the door didn't stay locked for long. After ten minutes, Mr Party had stumbled back in-- only now he was dressed in just his underwear (and even that came pretty close to coming off a couple of times):



We walked him back out into the lobby (after letting him startle several of our guests for comic effect) and then went upstairs to see if we could find his clothes-- which were obligingly strewn about the landing one floor up. But when we came back down to redress him (pun most certainly intended), he had disappeared again-- not, this time, into the apartment, but into the elevator, where he was standing, befuddled, and watching the doors slide open and shut on the ground floor.

So we got his clothes back on and sent him off into the night on his merry way. Please, Mr Party, if you're reading this: let us know that you got home safely.

The party, incidentally, was quite, quite awesome, and I, like Gil, would like to tell everybody who's been here for me this semester that you are loved and appreciated more than I could possibly express in blog form.

All the other pictures from the night can be found here. Aren't you proud, mom and dad?

2 Comments:

At 23/4/06 22:19, Anonymous Anonymous said...

Seems I left the party too early...

I would also like to say that improv friends are the best and most entertaining people I know. Thank you, thank you, thank you for the laughs and the friendship. We simply must have a reunion at some point. We'll meet in the food court and play Apples to Apples in 15 years. Mark your calendars. Nikki

 
At 24/4/06 01:00, Blogger Andrew said...

Nikki, it doesn't matter when you leave the party, it's always too early.

 

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