Just another "Brown Party"

Here's a somewhat funny situation that happened to me a few months ago.  Brown parties are always a unique scenario.  I know that my better gingery half HATES going to them, because it's gotta be tough being the only white guy in the room.  Anyway, a series of incredibly frustrating events began shortly after my arrival at a family friend's house.  This family has known me for almost my entire life, but it was hard for me to even tolerate being at their house because they had three younger boys.  Therefore, dealing with four younger boys (if you include my brother) and none of my friends was AWFUL.

As soon as I walked into the house, it was almost as if I was slapped.  It was the first time anyone besides my friends and immediate family had seen my newly highlighted hair.  What was the reaction?

"What happened to your hair?"

AUGH.  Are you serious?  What happened to my hair?  I know my parents didn't really like it when I highlighted my hair, and neither did my ginger, but ... if you're not super close to me and you don't like the way I look, why the hell would you publicly declare it?  I was instantly embarrassed.  Pretty much right after that sentence, I was told "You look like you've gained some weight!"  FFFFUUUUU.

Now, to be fair, let's examine the brown point of view.  In many brown cultures, it is a good thing to be heavier than lighter.  Being heavier means that your family is rich and can afford to eat well, so it was a complement from a cultural standpoint.  However, we should also remember that a lot of brown people who have immigrated to the U.S. are not particularly culturally competent.  Needless to say, I went straight for the booze and drank myself some scotch with my father and his friends, and that broke TOO many taboos:

1)"children" drinking
2)a woman drinking
3)a woman drinking hard liquor
4)a woman drinking something other than water, juice, or "wine cooler"
5)a child drinking with a parent

(Can you believe that, before I worked my way to the bottom of the glass, I was told to wait for the "mothers" to come back with wine?  I waited a little bit, but I was too embarrassed to even care about this.  I just wanted to drink away my bad feelings (bad advice), and none of my friends were even there to make me feel a little bit better.  When the mothers finally returned from a shopping trip, they returned with SPARKLING JUICE.  They didn't even come back with wine!  Good thing I didn't wait to get trashed.)

There are a lot of interesting patterns I notice at brown parties.  I thought that eventually people would grow out of them, but I guess I am wrong.  Children are almost always segregated from parents, regardless of the age.  Men are segregated from women, but at least now our parents have finally accepted that it is okay for girls and boys to coexist peacefully without boinking!

I do avoid going to brown parties a lot because I feel like I'm putting myself in an uncomfortable situation.  This one in particular was incredibly uncomfortable.  Thankfully, my gingerheaded hero came to save the day.  With the permission of my parents, he came over, enjoyed some of the delicious food, and comforted a slightly drunk me.

I hope you enjoy reading this, and have a lovely holiday tomorrow!