you know that guy who always shows up at the party? the one you know will come, even though you didn't invite him?
he's not friends with any of your friends and has already tried (and failed) to score with all the chicks. you wonder why he bothers showing up. no one really wants to talk to him, and his drunken antics aren't even that amusing--it usually ends in something broken and a pile of vomit in an inopportune place.
early in the night, you think, 'maybe he won't show up'. but you know he will, he must.
and he does, and the party dies a little. but things aren't so bad because he's not wasted yet, he's just roaming around saying, "hi" to all the people he hasn't seen since the last party, because no one is his friend, so he's not actually bothering anyone for too long.
you hope, in your heart of hearts, that he'll just quietly leave early. and that's when he comes barging through the crowd with a bottle of jagermeister in one hand and a lighter in the other, a cigarette wrong-way-up in his mouth. you wonder, 'will this person finally destroy my house entirely?' but, no, someone manages to cut him off at the pass, and steal the cigarette from out of his mouth. the disappointment of which leads him to drop the lighter and console himself with the jager.
but, now you can no longer be entirely at ease, you know it will be only a short time before he starts hitting on all your female friends, including the gay ones, and talking to the boys about hanging out and doing guy stuff. everyone is as polite as possible, because they don't want him to get into one of his freaky scenes, but the fun is gone almost entirely from the party. everyone's just watching and waiting.
soon he will be blind drunk, taking over control of the music, opening beers and spraying them on people, breaking shit both on accident and purpose, peeing in inappropriate places in front of inappropriate people.
then the vomit will come.
he will not run to the bathroom and just miss the toilet, apologizing profusely as he attempts, drunkenly, to clean it up. no, he will be talking to a partygoer, take his or her cup from his or her unassuming hand, down whatever's in it (only to discover it was ash) and promptly begin spewing all over above-mentioned partygoer and any art you may have in any location in your apartment (assuming he hasn't ruined it already). it will horrify your remaining guests, who, with the exception of your best friends who can't help but laugh, will leave immediately.
and then, almost entirely out of energy, the guy will go clean himself off in your closet, using your favorite shirt as a vomit mop. he will pass out only after pissing on all of your shoes.
and you will turn to your best friends who have stuck around because that's what best friends do, and you will sigh. and you will have a beer.
this guy is the winter. and he just showed up at my party.
the fall bender is over, it's time for the winter of sitting at home and watching tv only to venture out long enough to spout a string of expletives and register my complaints to anyone who will listen about cold weather sucking.