The following is true. At least to the limit of my memory. Names were changed and identifying details removed or glossed over.
I knew the party would be bad. I did not think it would be one of the scariest days in my life. I sat there in this plush recliner pinned by anxiety as I watch the dealer count various drugs at a nearby table. I tried my best not to stare at what I believed to be an automatic pistol. I had been in tense situations before, learned the hard way the the most important thing is that the more scared you are the less you can let them know. The other partygoers were in the same boat - big fake smiles but scared eyes, goofy laughter that had the wrong timing. I can only hope I did a better job than them.
Let's back up
My friend the birthday girl had heard I was back in town visiting and invited me a day earlier. I didn't know anyone else there, the side effect of having moved away years before. Jenny and I had almost lost touch but through mutual friends word got around.
Jenny and I had known each other since HS where we had been part of a small but very loyal group of friends. The school was one of the worst in the area - we liked it when we came in second from the bottom. Jenny had been a mid-year transfer. She had been expelled on account of one too many fights at our friendly rival for most-fucked-place-to-be. I just remember her as this cheerfully pudgy blonde girl with a ton of pimples in the sea of black faces. As one of the very few fellow white students it was hard NOT to notice each other. At one point I had counted - 14 - the number of people who weren't black.
You stuck together, if you were smart. Most people were cool but some had chips on their shoulder - throwing rocks or starting fights. If this sounds bad it wasn't. I understood the frustration. My prior school across town was mostly white. It had new paint, nice rooms and nobody had to worry about getting hassled by the police. I saw the racism, and I understood that while their anger towards me wasn't fair, they had real reason to be pissed. Besides, how much maturity can you really ask for from High School students? I didn't think about it that way then, I just knew that the occasional rock was a big step up from where I'd been before in terms of how I was treated. It's all about perspective.
On top of being racial outcasts most of us were nerds. We and the nerdy black kids all hung out at the library (where else), using the internet and playing role playing games - early WhiteWolf stuff. I was kind of a dick back then, but I was HUGE - 300lbs and 6 feet tall in 9th grade. Mass like that can have a fantastic property in place like our HS: It keeps people from fucking with you. If I was around, violence usually wasn't. There was a day each year - Fresh Meat day - where the seniors would beat up the freshman. Most skipped, I didn't. And I came out the other side pristine. I'm still kinda proud of that.
Jenny wasn't really a nerd but at the same time she appreciated the different vibe of the group. Nobody was interested in fighting her, dissing her, or even thinking in such terms. We mostly wanted to survive, get through it, and not get the shit kicked out of us. Somehow Jenny and I became really good friends despite having almost nothing at all in common. My best guess is because I was possibly the only guy NOT trying to get into her pants. My parents had fought constantly when I was younger and as a result I've never been interested in dating drama. It's a deep seated, powerful turn-off. And Jenny - she was drama.
Jenny was not known for quality life choices
I don't think there was ever a week where Jenny did not make some sort of choice that would go wrong. I want to be fair to her though - I'm not sure there were many good choices to make. Her father had fallen off the planet. Her mother had dumped Jenny with grandparents, become a lesbian, and was busy going down on various ladies across the city. When Jenny grew up, this became a paired outing (they even took me one time. Ever been the only guy at a lesbian bar? Awkward...)
Halfway through HS I got an out - acceptance at a boarding school for gifted students in a different city. I took that option and ran with it. My parents drove me out the next school year, I moved in, and I mostly moved on. I kept in touch - distantly but moving on is as much mental as physical.
Which brings me back to this Party
In the years I had been gone Jenny had continued being Jenny. Through some series of fucked up events Jenny had gotten mixed up with a group that I can only describe as 'seriously bent'. They were her friends, but they had a "special thing" they did for birthdays. For every year, the people at the party owed you a "whack". Which is a really polite way of saying you beat the shit out of your friends. As we talked on the phone, Jenny told me it had taken her a week to heal the last time.
She was upfront: she was hoping the special property of my size plus the time I'd spent in martial arts would keep that from happening again. We'd show up, it would be awkward, there would be cake, and eventually people would give up and go home.
I agreed.
What I didn't know was that her sister had started dating one of the more serious drug dealers in town. He wasn't actually invited to the party, but since when did that ever stop someone like that?
The Party Begins
I showed up a bit after the "official" start. Jenny had said that 'things happen' closer to the end. When that end was, I had no idea. I'd downed a massive amount of coffee to make sure it didn't matter. I'd stay up for the next week if needed.
Those reading this - what would you do? How do you try and have a fun birthday party while playing bodyguard while pretending not to? That was the mission. Play it cool, keep it light, and let the hope of violence fade with the exhaustion of drinks and time till they gave up and went home.
When I showed up there were 4 of us. Myself, Jenny, and two other guys who were themselves pretty big. Not as big as me, but... not pushovers. A little piece I didn't know existed had been hoping that these people would be tiny 100lbs weaklings. No such luck. If this went bad, it was gonna go really bad.
Shake hands, smile, tell a joke...
3 more arrive. Two guys and a girl. Their names leave my head as soon as they are spoken. One guy medium size, the other thankfully puny. The girl turned out to be Jenny's sister.
The seven of us settled in. Everyone talked about random stupid stuff but the guys were all flashing each other looks. A secret negotiation was going on - how tough could I be? Would I actually stop them?
Jenny saw it too. "Let's get cake!" I appreciated the effort. It's still pretty early though, maybe 10pm. People were only 1 or 2 beers in.
The biggest guy comes up as I'm getting cake and clasped me hard on the shoulder. They had started to get bold - shit.
I'm didn't listen to what he said. I was thinking, desperately, about how to handle a situation that I was certain was going to get very, very bad.
And then he showed up
The door opened and in strode a new guy. Glasses, an oversized flannel shirt and a big black briefcase. He made no eye contact just a happy "Hello" as he walked to the back of the room, pulled a gun out from under the big shirt and plopped down into a seat.
"How's everyone?"
Whatever thoughts had been running through the other guys' minds, they were gone. I saw it on their faces - they knew him and were as scared as I had been moments earlier. Part of me was relieved, but another part of me realized that my fate might have been upgraded from beat down to murder. If tonight went bad I wasn't going home.
I should not have agreed to come to this party.
Being extroverted seems to be a key trait of a dealer
The dealer, Bobby (I don't remember his name at all so whatever), was actually a pretty good talker. I don't think he EVER stopped talking. There he sat, gun on table, briefcase open, talking away as he measured, rolled, cut, and bagged whatever he had. Being a non-user, I could only guess badly what the different things were. But there was definitely a lot of it.
I looked over at Jenny. She came over and whispered "he wasn't supposed to be here".
"who is he?"
"My sister's boyfriend"
It's only now, writing this, that I consider the possibility that her sister planned this. I think this is possible because every so often he would enunciate his stories by grabbing his gun and just waving it around. It could have been typical drug dealer behavior - that's what I thought at the time. But, just maybe, he was making a point about how that night was gonna go down. Or maybe it was both.
Me, I was mostly just terrified. I don't know at the time if he was going to be part of the beatdown or not. All I knew though was that the other guys were a lot more scared of the guy waving a gun around than they were of me. And like me, they were all tensely waiting - white knuckled - to see what he was going to do.
So I talk to the guy. Somehow I summoned all the panic and fear and I pushed it out of my mouth into something glorious that makes the dude laugh. He liked me and said so. I saw the faces of the other guys drop.
In my mind: Tables have turned, bitches.
We got more cake. At this point the only people who were talking are me and Bobby. An hour passed, then two. The big guy gave up, "I got an early morning, see you guys". Everyone did the formalities of saying goodbye and he was gone.
At this point the other guys have become pretty shaken. They didn't know when - or if - Bobby was going to leave, they were down a man, and the night continued.
I was still in the big chair but my whole body had shifted. I was loose and feeling good. I flashed them my biggest, most confident grin. I looked at the next biggest guy in line: "Hey man, why don't you tell Bobby a story, we're taking up too much of this conversation".
He hadn't expected that. He blanked for a good 20-30 seconds while he searched for something to say. I think this was the final turning point - it got them off thinking about violence and moving on mentally. After all the "Uhh" and "well" he told some pointless story about a truck, or something. I don't really remember.
The other guys were done. The stress of hours of sitting there with this gun weilding weirdo and a suitcase full of drugs and worn them out. It wasn't what they signed up for, and they were done. 10 minutes later, they were gone. It was just me, Jenny, her sister, and Bobby.
We had some more cake, Bobby finished.. whatever the fuck he was doing, and he and Jenny's sister left. I'd had enough too. Despite all the coffee, I wanted to sleep for a week.
"Thank you"
"Don't thank me, thank Bobby and his gun"
"Yeah but if you weren't here and he didn't like you it would have happened anyway"