It was a friend’s birthday. I enjoy birthdays actually, and it’s important to make sure the person whose birthday it is, has a nice time, so before we begin, here’s some rules to help make that happen:
- They don’t pay for anything
- They must receive a cake
- They are always right, and you may not disagree with them
- They can do or say anything they please
- They must win/be best at any activity you may do
- They must get pissed
- They must dance to Daft Punk’s “Get Lucky”. I don’t really know why this is.
For my friend Jez’s birthday the other night, we went to a place called Bounce.
It’s a huge space with trippy fluorescent paintwork and rows and rows of ping pong tables. In between games you do stupid things with the balls and make shit ping pong jokes.
My plastic surgeon says I shouldn’t do things where balls fly at my face, so there goes my social life.
It’s basically tennis with tiny balls, but then when it gets late, although nobody shoots them out their vagina, what actually happens is that all the lights are turned off and you do it under the unflattering light of fluoro.
It’s fun. Especially when you’re with a collection of your favourite males and you are the only girl. I like being the only girl at the party. It means I get treated really nicely because nobody can be seen to be taking the piss out of the only girl in the group. They’d look a bit silly you see?
I laughed so much at certain points my tummy hurt, which is a good thing because I also accidentally ate a whole pizza, which is fcked up. I think it’s because I’m not used to being around food and I guess my ping pong playing had been a small work out, mostly because my friend Al (nicknamed the hurricane for the evening) sent me running around like Serena fckin Williams, while he stood there batting balls at me without even a flick of the wrist.
It was like a full time work out so I think that – and the Jack and Cokes – is why I then stress-ate a whole pizza like a fckin pig. I’m angry about this, as I’m sure you can tell. MOSTLY BECAUSE THIS WAS ALL WRITTEN OUT IN TEXT SCREAM (capitals), but ed my editor changed it to a less aggressive font (it’s called lowercase – ed). No need to yell at people is there? You didn’t force that pizza down my stupid fat bitch face.
We also all very much enjoyed watching a couple on a date. I only had to look round once to work out she was so completely not going to be putting out that evening. She was so livid at being dragged to ping pong and she lacked enthusiasm for the activity and didn’t hide it from her face. She was doing that limp wrist batting girls devoid of personality do. Eventually he gave up at life and they left early. Nobody was to have sexual intercourse that evening. We found this to be a shame. I thought it was a nice idea for a date, I’d have at least pity-put-out just because he’d gone to a bit of effort.
Was a lot of fun.
Ping pong girl. X