Worst Party Ever

So for six months, The Frenchman and I have avoided horrendous work related social functions. We finally succombed Friday night as a young group of attractive French couples from work suggested a seemingly inocuous dinner party. I was slightly apprehensive but as we approached the condo and heard laughter eminating from the open windows, my hopes rose a bit. Then we walked in.

The entire group clammed up like a bunch of teenagers when the teacher enters the room. They all stood in unison to face the door as the American intruder (me) entered French territory. They all politely introduced themselves and we were hastily shuffled to a seat and offered some strange alchololic smoothie.

Turns out, about half of them were only slightly comfortable with the English language. The rest of them decided to avoid the awkwardness and spent the rest of the evening in silence. So The Frencheman, the few English speakers, and I proceeded to make awkward party chit chat for the next hour or so.

Dinner itself offered some reprieve as the French speakers all congregated at one end where they could politely continue on in French without offending the interloper. Thus I was at the end with a bunch of French PhDs who were vociferously debating the benefits of lab tests over complex computer models while I stiffled a yawn about every 5 minutes, all the while desperately pretending to be interested. I would have amused myself with alcohol except that there was a single bottle of wine for the entire table of 9 so it seemed rude to refill my small plastic glass. We had brought a nice plant as a housewarming gift. Should have brought wine.

I had hoped to be home by 9:30 but the endless rounds of food never ceased to come from the kitchen. First dinner. Then the cheese plate. Then ice cream and chocolate cake. Then cookies. All would have been lovely had each new plate of food not created a barrier to our polite departure.

But things didn't really get fun until one of the younger party members switched gears from work to "What is wrong with Amercians and their rediculous (insert -> healthcare, minimum wage, foreign policy, etc.)." Or my all time favorite, "How could you people re-elect Bush?"

All of a sudden I was a spokesperson for all America and all French side conversations stopped while I defended various aspects of American life. I had to stifle my knee-jerk response (if-you-don't-like-it-go-home) and kept a big smile plastered on my face with all of the realism of a beauty pagent winner. I frantically searched for data points vaguely remembered from the last time I read The Economist at the gym to defend our capitalists-centric healthcare system while I tried to dispell them of the notion that if you aren't insured and you show up at the hospital with a gunshot wound that they will simply send you home with a bandaid. And then send you a bill for $500 for said bandaid.

Eventually there was enough of a lull in conversation that The Frenchman was able to throw me a lifejacket and we graciously made our way to the door. At this point most everybody was ready to go although we clearly were the first to depart and nobody else had left the building by the time we pulled away. So it had that definite feeling of a group of people who paused just long enough to chat about the people who had just left. Or so my paranoid self seemed to think.