Sunday, January 23, 2011

You can bang the drum, you can bang the drum...

Apart from the title of this blog being a reference to an awesome song by Hadouken!, it explains in a sentence the best part of a party I attended on Friday night.

First of all, I feel the need to point out that I fully expected party to be boring for me, due to it being the 21st birthday party of my girlfriend's best friend's sister. A person I have met a total of twice (including the aforementioned party). In formal clothing. In a golf club. With a total of 6 people in the room that I know. Only 2 of which I know much better than "you look familiar, I've met you haven't I?". That 2 being my girlfriend (obviously) and her mother.

We head to the party, and get bombarded with people serving random finger foods, none of which I could eat due to gluten-content. I had been told that a gluten-free meal had been sorted out for me for when dinner rolled around. My amazing optimism led me to believe that said meal would consist of chicken - of which I dislike intensely. Or even hate. Yes I do not like chicken. Yes I'm strange. I've heard it all before, don't bother telling me that there's something wrong with me.

So dinner rolls around, and surprise surprise, the gluten free meal was chicken covered in some kind of, apparently gluten-free spicy sauce.
Did I mention that I can't handle really hot foods?
Luckily this wasn't in the territory of "too hot", pretty much on the level of pepperoni I prefer on my pizza.

The kicker being that the alternate meal was an awesome looking steak - the gluten in that was likely the sauce. Annoying.

At any rate, once dinner (and poorly timed speeches and things were done - poorly timed because they interrupted dinner to do them), the "interactive entertainment" was brought out.

This was in the form of a small, seemingly African performing troupe appearing, with drums. Lots of drums. As in, a drum for each person at the party. This then turned into the performers playing drums, the crowd playing along with specific drum beats, some members of the crown being dragged into the group to do random tribal dancing, and then everyone being conga-lined out the the balcony to watch a guy play with fire.

Drums and fire, could this get any better? I think not!

The fire guy was amazing, he had a stick thing which was on fire at one end, which he twirled around his head and threw around and things. And then he lit his hand on fire (purposely) with this stick, and used said hand-fire to light the other end of the stick - which he then continued to twirl and tribal-dance with.

And as if it didn't look dangerous enough in itself, his tribal dress involved him wearing what can only be described as small fern-leaves. He was essentially wearing a tree, and playing with fire. Without burning himself, or anyone else. While people watched and bashed drums rhythmically.

This has got to be a highlight of my feeble existence.

Once this was over, it became a typical party, a DJ appeared and proceeded to play the latest "club hits", which were simply house remixes of the crap you hear on the radio. Including a remix of what can only be described as the WORST SONG EVER, with the most meaningless lyrics this side of Kesha...

I'm sorry for linking to that song by the way. Though I am not responsible if you are reduced to a gibbering heap on the floor by the horrendousness which is that song.

So when the party became "generic horrendous music" time, I only did what any sane person would do to survive the onslaught - drink. Lots.

Unfortunately, the mixture of drinks didn't agree with me, and I spent an hour or so later that night removing said drinks from my system.

On the whole though, drums and fire can make anything good.

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