Writer’s Note: This blog post evolved from a Facebook posting. Kori and Carrie wanted me to write about it and you don’t tell these women “No”.
I was engaged in conversation at our annual family picnic, when we were suddenly interrupted by the enthusiastic exclamation: “My name is DAAAAAAAAAAAVE!” I looked over to see a guy in a tank top, 70’s style hair, excessive tats, and large goofy smile, eagerly extending his hand. I shook it and introduced myself, not quite as loudly though.
I had not seen this dude before and I wondered to myself if one of the women folk had made a questionable choice of new suitors. Of course I am wondering who he is, but I’m not going to ask for fear of hearing “My name is DAAAAAAAAAAAVE!” again.
He anticipates my question though and says, again enthusiastically, “I’m not even a member of this family”. Now if I was crashing a family gathering for let’s say free beer and food, I might keep it on the down low , but apparently this is not Dave’s style.
We engaged in some small (very small) talk and at one point Dave mentioned that we knew a woman who had breasts the size of my head. Now I do have a large head, it needs to be big to house my large brain and it is shaved. But I don’t appreciate having it compared to a woman’s breast and the gleam in Dave’s eye when he looked at my head, frankly made me very nervous.
Dave soon left and I found out that he was indeed crashing the party. He lived in the campground next to the park where we had gathered. Carrie later informed me via Facebook that Dave had pulled the same stunt last year and labeled him “The serial, drunk, family reunion, party-crasher”.
We tried to resume our previous conversation but were repeatedly interrupted by loud outbursts of “My name is DAAAAAAAAAAAVE!” as he introduced himself to others standing near to us.
But I do have to admit, Dave knows how to network and work a room. I can forget people’s names within seconds of being introduced, but not this time! His name is DAAAAAAAAAAAVE! No business cards needed here!
As I observed Dave though, I realized he had violated one important networking rule. He was, as we say in my old neighborhood, $h!+faced drunk. I would say he had one too many free beers, but in reality, he was feasting on the free beer.
I wasn’t too happy with that but then Dave’s big moment arrived. For the first time ever we decided to get a group family photo. Of course the problem with group photos is the person taking the picture is not included in the photo. But now we had a perfect solution! Non-family, party-crasher, Dave, would take the photo.
Dave enthusiastically seized this opportunity. I think he felt some remorse about consuming all the free food and beer. He thought if he was able to help us out and take the photo, then it would be a fair trade. He would have earned his keep.
We gathered around, happily anticipating this photo opportunity. Dave with a big smile on his face joyfully framed the group on his camera phone and shot four pics.
Of course not one of these photos turned out. Because Dave was $h!+faced drunk. And so we all learned a valuable lesson that day:
“Never let the most drunk person at your party take the group photograph”
These are truly words to live by. We violated this rule and now we have no group photo, and coincidentally, there was no leftover beer.