Life of the Party

This week, our ebon everyman gropes for his niche, finding his is the only dusky pate in a round of dinner parties.


… And he’s smart and tall and charming and well spoken.







I bet he’s the dreamy type—big shock of blond hair and wispy, gray eyes.







Oh, Beau’s dreamy in his own way … I think I smell the bruschetta burning. I’ll be right back.






This guy sounds like a dreamboat.







Mandy, I’m home!







Mandy, uh … someone’s here …







You all must be the dinner guests.







Uh, Mandy … some black guy just walked in—







Hi, I’m Beau.

Oh! … Hiiiiiiiieeeeeeeeeyyyyyy.







And your name?







...







OK, this is awkward.







???







Excuse her, please. Hi, my name is Jessica.







Good to meet you. I’m Beau.







Yes, Mandy was telling us about you.

Is that “Bo” as in B – O, Bo? As in Flava Flav’s, you know, like, “Yeeeeeeeaaaaaahhhhh, BOOOOOOOOOIIIIEE!”




Ha ha, no it’s spelled B – E – A – U. That’s funny, though.







Oh … my goodness. I did not mean to offend your heritage …







No, really, no offense taken whatsoever—







This is awkward.















Excuse those two. My name’s Jared. Good to meet you.







Same.







So what do you do around here?







Still looking for a job right now.







So you’ve just been hanging around the house?







Yep, holding down the f—







Aw, man, I apologize. I’m sorry. I did not mean “hang” as any kind of implicit threat or reference to—






Oh! No … that was the furthest thing from my—







I don’t even know how to tie a noose … oh gosh, this is awkward.







...







Oh! Hi, Beau. OK, so now that everyone’s acquainted, who wants some marinated baby aubergines?

Later

How did you like our new friends? You seemed a little uptight around them tonight.






I liked them fine. Did you ask them how they liked me?







Well, no. You were just kind of quiet. I wish you would relax and open up.







Me? Open up? You know, I made a pretty honest effort tonight to be friendly.







I know, I know. But can’t you, you know, liven up a little?







Like how?







Like when we’re alone together and you make silly jokes and dance around and make me laugh.






Are you asking me to perform??!







Yeah, a little.







Do you realize how fraught that term is, especially when used in reference to black people?






OK, so maybe “perform” isn’t the right word. How about “project your personality?”






Mandy, I don’t know if I’d feel comfortable … Besides, whose personality would you want me to “project?”






Pleeeeaaaase, Beau? Can you try? For me? I really like these people.







Hmph … I’ll see what I can do.

Dinner party #2

Lima bean, watercress, and herb dip? Spinach empanadillas?

Don’t mind if I do.







Will your beau be joining us tonight, Mandy?







Yes, he should be here any minu—







Hey, hey, hey! The man is in the house!







Beau! Stylin’, my man! I’m digging the threads.







Yeah, well uh, Jared, K-Mart called before I left the house. You know the clearance-aisle mannequin you lifted that shirt off of? It wants its fall wardrobe back.





Wha—? Oh, ha ha. Good one, Beau.







He’s so cocky and self-absorbed, yet I can’t help but be drawn to his heavy-handed charisma and hammy physical charm.






I know! It’s like he’s … Will Smith!







Daaaaayyyyyuuuum! Who mixed these weak-ass martinis? I know it won’t no black folks ‘cause we knows how to stir it up, nah mean?






Ha ha. No, I don’t know what you mean.







I mean, when a brother mixes drinks, we bring it with a stiffness, you feel me?






Oh, I’m feeling ya, Beau!







Jamie, get your hands off my man!







Hold, hold, ladies. No need to fight.







Mandy, this guy’s a riot. Where’d you find him?







We met in grad sch—







West Indianapolis, born and raised. In the library is where I spent most of my days …






Ha ha! Hey Beau, I’m throwing a dinner party next week. You have got to fall through.






Yo, homes, to Bel-Air!

Dinner party #3

Are you OK, Beau? Jamie, Jessica, and Jared said you’ve been a little surly this evening.

I’m just tired. I don’t know if I feel up to “projecting my personality” tonight.







But you were such a hit at the last dinner party.







Yeah, and I had to slam down three appletinis before showing up to be that way. I don’t know if I should drink tonight; I’m not in the best of spirits.






Who wants Jello shots?












I do!







I do!







Oh, no.







Come on, Beau. A couple won't hurt.







I have a bad feeling about this.

Later

Where's Beau?







He’s been out on the balcony chain-smoking cigarettes by himself half the night. He said he needed some air … he even took his shirt off.






Oh, look. He’s coming back inside.







Uuugh.







Chickpea falafel with cilantro dip, Beau?












Let me ask you a question, Jessica. Do I look like a vegan?







What?







DO I LOOK LIKE A VEGAN?!!







I don’t know. I guess not.







Then why you trying to feed me like a vegan, Jess?







No, I was just—







Yes you did, Jessica. Yes you did. And know that the only way I’d eat any of that cilantro dip is if you smeared it on an actual vegan!






He’s so angry—visceral. Yet in control. The type of no-nonsense personality who deals with life-and-death situations on a daily basis. It’s almost like he’s … he’s …





Samuel L. Jackson!







Escargot?












I’m tired of these motherflipping snails on this motherflipping plate!

Stand back. I’m gonna open up one of these flipping tins of Vienna sausages.





Yes! Beau-Diddley is back!







Ah, mini-wieners. The cornerstone to any nutritious dinner party fare.







Oh yeah, I know all about those dinner party sausages, Beau.







Jamie, for the last time, step off my man!

Dinner party #3

Potted stilton with herbs and melba toast?

Thank you kindly.







Mandy, where’s Beau tonight?







He wasn’t feeling well; he decided to stay home. He said he’s working on his 50 Cent routine for next time, though.






Oh, I can't wait!

At the homested

Hey-oh, Beau. You got eight dollars I could borrow till the end of the week?







Lester, I don’t know what you heard about me, but a fool can’t get a dollar outta me. ‘Cause I’m a motherflipping P – I – M – P.






Oh, OK … word up.







Go ‘head, it’s y’ birfday! We gonna party like it’s y’ birfday! Sip Bacardi like it’s y’ birfday!






Uh, Beau … who you talking to?







ARRRRRRK! ARRRRRRK!