Party Boy 2011

This kid has been standing in front of me for now over five minutes mumbling about my soccer jersey fashion statement of choice today. A brief attempt at disscusion inregard to my nationality ensues only to be drowned out by the excessive amount of violent bass soundwaves overloading my ears into a near state of deafnesses. The ringing in my ears has been replaced with a constant piledriving tempo of pop dance music while the only real thing keeping my interest is a hot female twenty something parading around in skin tight black vinyl pants and a very revealing bikini top, but everyone has to make a living, even Party Boy in front me as he attempts to light the filtered end of a menthol cigarette. His lighter is mashed inbetween a good half dozen cigarettes that are nothing more now than a pile of loose tabacco finding its way onto the sandy beach floor. His behavior continues inbetween pleas from the singer on stage for the fans to raise their hands in the air and pump up the energy of the crowd; as if controlled by some invisible frequency Party Boy begins to clap his hands together with the vigor of a dancing monkey overdosing on meth, banging his cymbals together as if that was the only possible action to maintain his presence on planet earth until the effects of the drug began to wear off. I do everything to erase him from my personal space yet without much avail, just having to watch Party Boy work on his lighter for the next five minutes finally causes a direct intervention in order to get him on to the next freak magnet like myself. Quickly, aggressively, and single minded, I grab the pack of crunched up cigarettes, dig through the refuse to find one cancer stick that would still light up, then put the smoke into his mouth and attempt to light it, yet his constant swaying made sparking the the cigarette impossible. The only alternative was to shake him by the shoulders, then planted his frame into the sand and light the smoke as Party Boy automatically took a drag generating an enormous grin across his 10 dollar sunglasses covered pasty white face. New commands filter into his brain cells sending Party Boy into another direction where he begins to start freaking some big girl who loves the animal like passion he shows while grinding on one of the many folds of fat hanging over her bikini, true love indeed.