Me and My Fake Girlfriend Discuss Having a House Warming

‘I’d like to have a House Warming,’ says I.
‘What? So someone can throw-up in the corner?’
‘No, why would they do that?’
‘Why would you have a House Warming?’
‘This place feels unlived. There’s the part of the floor where I put my shoes, the room that’s cold in winter, the small back room where the toilet is. Nothing provokes a memory of life.’
‘You think a House Warming would do that?’
‘At least I could sit back and think, “Hey, that seat is where Steve did” such and such.’
‘And over there Eddie threw-up in the corner.’
‘Nobody has to throw-up.’
‘You could have a dinner party.’
‘I don’t want a dinner party.’
‘You could invite some people around and cook a meal. I’ll help.’
‘Sounds horrible.’
‘Go on.’
‘First of all you don’t exist. You’re a fake girlfriend, part of my imagination, we can’t play pretend Masterchef.’
‘Yes we could.’
‘Well, not very well.’
‘It’s My Kitchen Rules anyway.’
‘Whatever. Second, sitting at dinner is not relaxing, there’s too much social etiquette stress, and it doesn’t engage every room. I want fond memories in the place. Dinner parties focus energy on the cooking and eating rooms. Which is ok, but what about the bed room?’
‘What about it?’
‘Ok bad example.’
‘Are you going to invite people around for an orgy?’
‘No, no, I just mean…’
‘Is this how you plan to behave when my friends visit?’
‘You’re friends are also imaginary and this is going down an awkward path. All I want is to have a few friends come over, relax, and show them my place. I want it filled with smiles.’
‘Oh how sweet.’
‘Ok fuck that, how about laughter and beer and shit. And even vomiting in a corner. Hopefully into a bucket.’
‘You’re not planning to put ice in the bath tub and drink beer from valved tubing are you?’
‘No. I could do a BBQ.’
‘You could. What friends would you invite?’
‘Invite? Friends? Oh yes. Yes, well. Would you come?’
‘If I must. Don’t see how I can get out of it really.’
‘Well there’s one. And. Did you say you had some friends?’


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