With Salient pages to fill, assignments to do, fun to be had and a liver to feed, there was only one conclusion I could come to when planning my Saturday evening. Assignments are best done last minute and hung-over- (I have plenty of experience to affirm this) Salient needs columns, my liver likes cheap white wine, and I like to party.

Enter the party column.

Armed with my gang of party fiend friends, too much wine and three promising party invites, the above requirements seemed do-able.

The night started at a friend’s pre-drinks in Newtown; I showed off my latest catch, my friends admitted jealousy level needed for a night of socialising, we headed down the road for party number one which was themed ‘Smooth Operator’. The pink haired girl took the theme literally, opting to go as a Frenchie styled 1950’s call centre operator. Grating Kiwi accent included.

The party was of the Uni-Q persuasion, with some fitting outfits, butch pirates, a drag style playboy bunny, a female gangster, and a punked up hostess- Rachael Wright.

Peaches dominated the stereo, until Data Boy, an androgynous MC- moved the party into Rachael’s 4 by 7 metre room, into which at least 30 smooth operators crammed, spilling over the bed, walls and piling in-front of Data Boy, whose style was in a similar vein as local rapper Tommy Ill; with the piss take lyrics, minimal ‘80s-esqe backing, and tracks about liking girls and a sarcastic dig at MySpace.

Members of the Raging Mormons then took over, with a now topless Rachael on the mic and Steph on guitar. My favourite track was “The Neon-Sleep Pay Out”. This party deserves at 7/10 for the ambiguous theme, live music, and good use of minimal space.

The girls in the party posse decided there was – as to be expected – no suitable hetero males for them at this party, so we stumbled off to Hanson Street, for a flat warming.

The steps to this place were huge and disorientating since the wine had completely gone to my head, and there was a hippy playing the recorder. Details are hazy- there was a substantial amount of people milling both in and outside, we took over the kitchen with our ridiculously flailing dance moves to David Bowie.

This party gets a 6/10. The host was amusingly wasted, the music was good, but the general atmosphere a tad dull. Too many hippies tend to do that.

Quite certain that we had made enough of an impression to leave, we stumbled to the next shin-dig- via the Tip-Top bins. While not actually feeling like any bread, we climbed in with the rejected loaves and had a little party. That one’s a 5/10, music and a keg would have it up at 8/10. Maybe next time.

With one party to go, and the time getting on, the third stop was in the Mount Cook area, which fittingly, had a wasted Tommy Ill and Neon Sleep Welfe in attendance. I assume this party had wound down due to the lack of people. I caught up with some old friends, made fun of one (again) for looking like Justin Timberlake, and had definitely drunk enough as that’s all I remember of this one. Having an insatiable appetite for partying, I wasn’t quite ready to go home, and was in need of a dance, Mighty Mighty was beckoning. Two of us headed that way, stayed for all of ten minutes and then I fell down the stairs on the way out. Smooth Operator.

The night gets a 7/10 overall. Extra points would have been allocated had there been a smooth operater decked out in polar fleece.

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