Once upon a time in a faraway land called 48 West Apartments, a dewy-eyed freshman pondered the endless possibilities that may come from the college party scene. The mysterious man sipping his whiskey on the rocks in the corner began to approach, and she was ready to be swept away by love. She was ready for those three words to escape his lips, but instead he uttered five: “Who do you know here?”
The mystery the man embodied had turned out to be a drunken blank look, and the whiskey on the rocks was actually a half drank shot he couldn’t quite finish off in one swift pull. Standing in the corner, that was real. That’s because he embodied two of the 5 main traits all people you meet at parties possesses.
The parties everyone strives to be at (while simultaneously wanting to be anywhere else) contain five types of people.
First, you’ll be able to point out the Desperado, because he moves entirely too quickly. His aura of nervousness and his hyperactive movements are what gave him away, to his despair. I shook my head as I heard him mutter to my friend, “Is it my turn yet?”
The only one who moves even quicker than the most desperate guy at the party is the guy who’s convinced he’s better than the desperate guy at the party – the Casanova. He’s convinced he’s incredibly too cool to approach women himself, and with some sort of god-like luck, it works incredibly well for him. I even saw one manage to dance with one gorgeous woman, perform a flawless 180 spin, then dancing with the woman directly behind him in a record five seconds. His confidence was unnerving.
Unlike the Desperado and the Casanova, the line of people standing as straight as the Queen’s guard outside the palace are those who are usually quite innocent. If you get the chance to talk to this third type of person, you usually find out it’s a mob of high school kids who found their way to this party, typically by paying $10 to the worst type of person at the party: the Host.
Our fourth type, the Host, is usually embodied not by the person who lives there, but a friend of a friend of the girl who lives there but went home for the weekend instead. It’s nearly impossible for them to fight the seething urge of yelling “who do you know here?” to whoever looks like they’re having the most fun.
Our fifth type is usually the last one seen, right before Absolute Security comes and gives their final warning. This is the guy with the wandering eye. He had been brewing the whole time, but his significant other avoided confrontation until the right moment. Next thing you know, everyone’s walking home, arms crossed, 10 yards apart from each other in the freezing rain.
The fabulous five partygoers will defy generational gaps and prevail forever, so forget the fairytale. After all, you really don’t know anyone there.