It's your party and I'll cry if I want to (bad teen party experiences)

Miscellaneous and Personal Stuff I Must Share
1

I was not what you’d call popular in high school. I rarely got invited to parties and so forth. I got used to it and had my own group of friends so it wasn’t a big deal.

There was one instance that still stands out, however.

There was a girl I was madly, painfully in love with (let’s call her K). My “best” friend was “going steady” with her for a few months (and broke up with her OVER THE PHONE about 4 days before Valentine’s Day).

We had become reasonably good friends even during that time (I was an exceptionally good listener and she always needed advice or at least someone to talk to).

I figured that now was my chance. It didn’t matter that I had no money, no car, no fashion sense, etc. I was in love!

One of her friends was throwing a party and actually invited me! Ah, opportunity was a-knockin’.

Bad Thing #1: My “best” friend couldn’t go, so I had to get a ride with a neighbor. I didn’t have a license.

Bad Thing #2: By the time everyone arrived the total number of people attending was: 13 (guess who was the odd one out?)

Bad Thing #3: K was there but totally ignored me and was dancing with a mutual friend (who, I understand, kissed like a fish :smiley: ).

Bad Thing #4: When I finally got to dance with K, we started to argue about something stupid that I cannot remember to save my life. We stopped dancing before the song (“Too Much Heaven” by the Bee Gees - her favorite group at the time) was over. I couldn’t listen to that song for over 20 years.

Bad Thing #5: Everybody’s making out and I’m sitting there like a lump.

Bad Thing #6: The party ends about 11pm and I have no ride home. I call home and get the same neighbor to come and get me. I ended up waiting until 11:45pm!! I help clean up. :smack: K is long gone.

If you think this is sad in any way, I’ll let you know the exact date of the party:

Friday, April 13, 1979

I never believed in omens. That would have been a good place to start.

That was the last high school party I ever went to.

So, what you got?

2

Took a girl I was madly in love with to a party at a friends house. I was having a good time playing pool etc., hadn’t seen her for a while and ended up finding her making out with her ex in the bedroom.

Sadly, I didn’t learn from that and a couple years later married her for a while.

3

Well, it seems like I’ve got nothing on you. Just the normal angsty teen stuff, and general not-popular stuff going on. So glad it’s allover though.

4

So Barbara broke up with me and it tore me up. Really. I was 16, she was 15 and she had been my world!

Two weeks passed and I was starting to believe I might actually live. Went to a party. Got there late, maybe 11:00. Cracked a beer and started wandering through the house, as I’d never been there before. Said hi to a few kids I knew.

Wandered into a back bedroom. There was a small light shining from a bed-side table lamp. My own Dear Barbara was under the sheets with some guy I barely knew. Their clothes were scattered on the floor beside the bed. She just looked at me. No smile, no frown, no expression at all. She just looked at me.

Shocked, I dropped my beer, then picked the foaming mess up, put the can somewhere and walked straight out the front door. Walked around for maybe three hours before I went home.

Worst. Party. Ever, and I was only there a total of, maybe, 10 minutes.

5

My social situation in high school was a lot like Mr. Blue Sky’s so I was pretty surprised when a girl I’d been kinda friendly with asked me to the prom.

Hah. Should have known better.

We weren’t at the prom 10 minutes when she ditched me. The guy she spent the entire evening with was a guy her parents hated and wouldn’t allow her to date.

I was going to make the best of it and hang around with friends, but then “my date” came over and said, “Don’t forget, you’ve got to drive me home later on because you know my Dad can’t stand Otherguy.”

Yeah, right. I left a couple minutes later.

6

I had a slightly different crummy experience with highschool parties - less heartbreak-related than the stories so far. I mean, I have the odd half-arsed teen heartbreak story, but just the usual.

My problem with highschool parties was that I didn’t drink at all, and everyone else was just getting into it, so I’d usually end up looking after drunk people. I can tell it has had a lasting effect on me - to this day, I can’t bear to be around people when they’re drunk, even if they’re good friends. Admittedly, this was all quite recently, so maybe I’ll get over it. People are generally less drunk these days, too.

~ Isaac

7

That was me, too.

8

Okay, let me try and trump your story with my own personal tale of woe and heart-ache.
I was 16 and madly in love with this girl in my class who agreed to come to a party with me.
I was in seventh heaven.
This night I was going to proclaim my undying love for her and we would kiss and live happily ever after.

I told her and she told me the feeling wasn’t mutual.
Only she just used me to get a ride and started making out with a guy I knew quite well who was a year older.
I was heartbroken and even cried a bit.
The guy came up to me a little later (after taking her virginity in an upstairs bedroom) and told me “You can have her when I am done with her in a few weeks”. :eek:

That was the point I decided never to become a stereotypical male.
I have never played their little games.
This is probably why I am still single. :smiley:

9

I invited my family, a couple outside of school friends, and my school friends to my graduation party. I was so excited! I was a total geek (still am) with a fair amount of social anxiety disorder (still do), so since everyone coming to the party was my friend or family I was psyched! How could the party go wrong, everyone coming liked me! Yay!

No one from my school showed up. No one.

So, yeah. That didn’t help the social anxiety disorder at all.

10

This is why I love the Dope. Sooner or later, someone starts a thread where you can cleanse your soul of everything.

My 18th birthday party was pretty huge. All the Indians of the community were invited, it was probably 150 people.
We had a “dance” program, where all of the kids who could were invited to put on a 3-5 minute dance or a group dance. Well, we had it all set up in an order, like a program of sorts.
Come time for my best friend to dance, she is nowhere to be found. I search high and low. Well, I’m too immature to realize it doesn’t really matter, and I get upset. We quit the program, and everybody starts dancing.

She shows up 1/2 hour later, and wants to perform. Apparently she’d gone to buy a new copy of the audio cassette she was going to use, as she was not sure if her copy was good or not. She took three friends and didn’t think of telling anyone. This would mean once again clearing the floor of everyone and making them all sit down, and I didn’t want to do this. In retrospect, I should have, of course…it was my friend and didn’t matter. Well, we got into a fight, and the asshole cameraman recorded the entire fight.

The worst of it was, later on when my family saw the video, they wouldn’t believe that she’d left in the middle of the dancing to get her tape. They accused me of lying and ruining my own party. My entire family ganged up on me and accused me of purposefully and for no reason not letting her dance. I had to call up every one of my friends and apologize, and my family wouldn’t talk to me for days.

I did wrong by my friend, but she did wrong by me too. And the sting of my family automatically believing anyone else but me still remains with me to this day.

Whew! Mr. Blue Sky, thanks. I’ve wanted to get that off my chest for a while now.

11

My entire adolescence/young adulthood, from 11 to 19.

But getting beat up every single day, in front of the girl’s locker room, while all the girl’s watched and laughed, was the memorable part of Middle School.

I hate Horning Middle School, in Waukesha County.

12

Gee whiz, and I thought my high school experience sucked!

Well, it did, but not because of any bad experiences – more a lack of any experiences whatsoever.

By senior year I came out of my shell. The one bad experience I had was with a girl I was really good pals with in my English class. I asked her out once during Christmas break. She rebuffed me. That was bad enough because I had a terrible crush on her, but then we were both too awkward around each other to pal around in class like we had done before.

–Cliffy

13

Ding! Ding! Ding! I believe we have a winner!

14

Gee, thanks… I guess.

15

Wow. Some miserable experiences here.

Most of the times I had to go to parties as a teen, it was being drug to high school graduation parties for the kids of my parents’ friends. Tedious. The worst were the ones where the kids actually showed up and hung out with their friends (99% of the time, not my clique). Most of the time I’d sit outside and wish I’d brought a book for the few hours my parents were there.

16

Cliffy, we have a term for that kind of thing now. Becoming her pal meant automatically that you were thrown into the Let’s Just Be Friends club. Help yourself to the muffins.

A second vote for Scoundrel. Do you keep in touch with either of them?

A friend - one of those alpha-male types - had taken me under his wing to show me how to ‘game’. Which I did. So the girl I’d secretly had a crush on for three years agreed to go to the prom with me.

I think we were both a little nervous about the whole thing. My mentor had taught me everything about how to get here, but nothing at all about what to do upon arrival. In the car we barely exchanged words. Know how you’re supposed to put the corsage on your date? I chucked it at her, across the car.

When we got there I immediately sought less awkward company. I ended up hanging out with everyone but her for the entire evening, and even left the room when she got on stage to sing. I still don’t know what she sang, and am still to embarrassed to contact any old friends out of the blue to ask. Around 11 she told me she was leaving to go with her friends, juniors both, to a club. I realize now that this was proably an intentionally poorly-disguised invitation to help me salvage the evening I had sabotaged, but just being around her makes me stupid, and all I could manage to blurt out was, “Okay. Have fun.” Her friends looked pretty disgusted as they turned to leave.

I have since attended dozens of other parties, some of which I consider to have been spectacular disasters, but this is still the one most embarrassing party stories I have to tell.

17

When I was in high school, the jocks had the social life totally under their control, at least as far as dating any girls went. The jocks had money, and if you didn’t have money or weren’t friends with them you didn’t do much of anything socially, unless you went to a different town.

I had heard of the Christmas party from some of my aquaintances- I wouldn’t go so far as to call them friends, because they did not want me to go to this party. You see, these girls were going to be there, and they wanted to score. So I walked to the party.

They let me in, but no one was talking to me, so I made friends with a bottle of Southern Comfort. I proceeded to get very blasted in a short time. Everything else that happened was told to me later, I blacked out.

Apparently, the bathroom was in use so I went to the back of the house to relieve myself. I don’t know if I just stumbled or if someone pushed me, but I was found at the bottom of a cellar stairway at the back of the house. I was bleeding from a large gash in my chin.

I have to throw in an aside here- just before the party, I had a meatball sub at the local pizzeria for my dinner.

They carried me inside, and one guy who bacame a friend later tried to get me cleaned up. He put me in the bathroom, and others helped in stopping the blood flow. My friend said that I looked up, as if to say something, then I puked all over him, the floor, tha bathroom, myself- a real technicolor yawn, with meatball chunks for texture.

They bundled me into a car, and dropped me off under a tree at the end of my street, in the snow. With no coat.

After some time, I got up and wandered. My neighbor spotted me trying to get into someone else’s house, and took me over to their house, and them my father picked me up and the next thing I remember is waking up in my bed, dressed in puke-covered clothing and a sore jaw.

I still have the scar.

18

Hm. For all the drawbacks of an all-guys high school, it’s apparently at least a lot less stressful. When there’s only four girls in the entire building there on a class-exchange program with our sister school, it makes it kinda hard to get painfully snubbed by any of them.

For that matter, most of the guys at my high school were pretty clean-living (little to no alcohol, and no other drugs I was aware of), so it wasn’t hard to find a good peer group to hang out with.

19

I was 17, and had just moved with my mom into one of the worst neighborhoods in Nashville. The year before, I had attended an upper middle-class private boarding school. Needless to say, I didn’t fit in. I had a few casual friends at school, but none from the neighborhood. Infact, after several of the girl’s threatened to beat me up if I even looked at their guys, I kept my head down, and rarely spoke to anyone.
I was dating the stepson of one of my mom’s friends, who lived down the street. He was 24, smart and had just been released from jail. ::: swoon ::: He also knew some of the older siblings of the kids who had been tormenting me. He found out about a party at the home of two boys I went to school with, and offered to take me. I made him promise not to leave me alone.
When we got there, one of the boys “T”, assured me that the girls that hated me wouldn’t be there.
It was boring as hell, just a bunch of people sitting around getting stoned and drunk. How was I supposed to know that’s what “party” meant to those people?
After most of the people had left, T’s mom came home from a date, and so the rest of us relocated to T & R’s bedroom, R was T’s twin brother. I was a little uncomfortable when I realized all the other females had left. But everybody was pretty much ignoring me.

Then the beer ran out.
My boyfriend offered to get some more. He asked if I wanted to come. But after a couple of joints, I was feeling comfortable where I was at. :slight_smile: This didn’t sit very well with BF, especially since I had begged him not to leave me alone, and also since I was the only female in a bedroom with 4 guys. After he had been gone awhile, T & R’s mom called them into the livingroom. Apparantly, a neighbor had seen BF slashing their tires. :rolleyes:
They planned on beating him up when he returned, but he didn’t come back. T & R’s mom told them to walk me home, and they could take care of things in the morning. Then she went to bed.
They were still pretty pissed about the tires, so they took turns raping me. One would hold me down with their hands over my mouth, while the other was on me. I had been a virgin up until then.

20

:eek: :frowning: :mad: Please tell me those BASTARDS were reported to the police and did jail time…please. I can’t even imagine going through this hell…