How (Not) to Go to a Party
Go hard or go home? Timmy Mowafi would rather not have turned up at all.
Here’s a typical encounter and the reason why I don’t go out much anymore...
“Yoooooo man, what’s up how are you?”
“Hey man. Yeah I’m…”
*He doesn’t wait for answer, goes around saying hi to everyone else*
*Returns to table*
“Timmmmeeehh!”
“Yep, what’s up, man?
“Timmmmehhhhhhh”
“Haha, yeah. That is my name. Crazy.”
“Timmmmmmeeehhhhh… Timmmmmehhhh”.
“Yes, we’ve established communication, my mother did in fact give me that name, although with less vowels, and you now have my attention, like a dog. How can I help?”
*Grabs me aggressively on the shoulder*
“Timmmmehhhhhh, waaaaatsssssssup man!”
“All’s well dude, I’m just a bit tired from w…”
“So did you go to that party last night!?”
“You mean the party we were both at last night? The one where you came and said hi to me at my table and asked me if I’m enjoying the party?”
“Yeaah man! Did you have fun?”
*I check my watch to make sure this wasn’t some sort of worm hole. It isn’t. 24 hours have definitely passed.*
“Yeah dude I had a good time, the music was a bit shit though, like…”
“Yeah kan khabt neek sa7? Kan 7elw neek!”
“Sure.”
“So are you going to this party on Friday??”
“We’re at a party that you previously had talked about with me, we are currently in the party and you are asking me about a future party. What happened to this party?”
“Yeah, man I can’t wait! Fucking DJ XXXXXX!… Timmmmehhhh.”
“I don’t know they all sound the same to me.”
“La2, man DJ XXXXX!! DJ XXXXX!! Howa le3eb Deeb House before anyone else was playing Deeb Hhouse!”
“Deep house?”
“Ah Deeb House. Tab, eh el nezam ya man, ma3ak 7aga?”
“Do you mean drugs?”
“Zabatny ya 3am”
“I think you mean drugs. No I currently am not in possession of any ecstasy, I’m…”
* He walks off*
*I’m talking and dancing with a girl*
“Timmmmeeehhhh!”
*Grabs us both aggressively on the shoulder*
“Habibi ya Timmmeh! Bos el wad da gameel ad eh?”
*Girl walks off*
*Later on that night… in the toilet*
“Eh ya 3am mestany 7ad wala eh?” 
“I don’t have any drugs, I’m going for a shit.”
“Tayeb sebely bullet keda!” .
“I’m sorry. I don’t have any drugs. I’m taking a shit.”
“Timmmmmeehhhh…”
*Leaving the club*
“”Timmmmmeeehhh. Habibi enta ya Timmmeeh. Bahebak moot.”
“To be frank, I do not feel the same way. We’ve met each other several times now and if I’m being honest, I found our encounters quite humdrum to say the least.”
“Did you enjoy the party?”
“Fuck off.”
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