Why I May Not Host Another Mensa Party |
First of all, I have been a member of Greater Phoenix Mensa for over ten years, and have hosted many events in my home, including, for several years, a monthly movie night. I hosted the May Salon last month. Mostly, it was a very nice party, and I had a good time hosting it. I thank all of you for coming.
However, there were problems with a few of the guests.
We Mensans have gotten a reputation for being socially inept. I heard this
from the many non-Mensan friends who I also invited to the party, including
several ex-Mensans. My party reaffirmed their claims.
As a host, of course I expected the usual accidents and incidents that occur
during a party when alcohol is involved. Therefore, since the weather was nice,
I set up the buffet table, the plastic cups and eating utensils, and the ice
chests with the drinks, outside, on the patio. There was one guest who, upon
first arriving, warned me that she was “high on pain pills”. I was not surprised
when she stumbled and mashed a full paper plate of food against the back wall
of my house. The next morning the cleanup of this and all the other spilled
food on the patio was easily accomplished with a hose. All of this was normal,
expected, and planned for.
The couple in the dining area who were showing off their new, his and hers,
Glock semiautomatic 9 mm handguns with laser sights was another matter. Yes,
they removed the clips, and made sure the guns were unloaded, before aiming
the laser beams at other guests. I guess their recently completed gun safety
classes were good for something.
Another incident disturbed me more. I was in the back yard, showing some landscaping
improvements to a couple I have known for over 20 years, but who had not been
to my home for several years. From where we were standing, we could look through
the open drapes directly into my bedroom. One of the Mensa regulars, somebody
we all know, was sitting on my bed, flossing her teeth. I thought of all the
bits of food particles, saliva, gum tissue, and blood that were being sprayed
onto my comforter. Then, her friend came out of the master bath, and sat on
my bed, brushing her teeth. These are activities that are supposed to occur
only in the bathroom, where the hard surfaces can be sanitized. Later, I was
told that someone had vomited into my shower, and my girlfriend told me that
her toothbrush was in a position other than were she had left it before the
arrival of our guests. I can only conclude that the guest who had vomited had
borrowed her toothbrush to brush her teeth afterwards. Needless to say, all
this person had to do was tell me that she had been sick in my shower, and needed
a toothbrush. I would have quickly provided her with a new one. Nobody informed
me about their “accident”, only to have it discovered later. No attempt was
made by this person to clean it up, leaving it for me do before I went to bed.
Also, the next morning I made a list of the names of all the people who had
been guests at my party. There were 34, but there was only $47 in the Owl. Therefore,
about a third of the guests did not pay. I have been unemployed for several
months, but I had volunteered to host the party anyway. The Owl is not for the
host to turn a profit on the party, but to pay back the costs of the party.
After all, I did provide the decorations, soft drinks, ice, paper plates, plastic
eating utensils, plastic cups, etc., in addition to a place to have the party.
I did not appreciate those who took glasses out my cupboard, or used the special
glasses from the china hutch, because they did not want to drink from plastic
cups.
We are intelligent adults. We should not have to be told to inform the host when we have an “accident”. We should not be forced by the Gestapo to put our money in the Owl. We should not play with firearms while in a group with some who are not comfortable around guns. We should not perform personal hygiene while sitting on the host’s bed.
Hopefully, by next year, the negative memories will have faded, and the good
memories will allow me to host another party.
By the way, there was a pair of ladies’ shoes left behind. If the owner contacts
me, I will try to make sure she gets them back.
Bill Taylor has opened his home many times to the Mensa