So, I went to a kinky friend’s birthday party last night. His invitations had declared the affair a “roast,” and included pictures of martini glasses on fire. Then there was mention of optionally being roasted. Naturally, considering the friend is a heavy sadist and a pyro, I thought he was going to set people on fire.
I was looking forward to it.
So I went to the party expecting to see people (read: lithe, naked men) tied to spits over an open flame, or at the very least tons of candles. I stress that the friend is the breed of sadist who I could see roasting people –literally– as a regular activity. I arrived late, due to the worst bus route I have ever had the misfortune to take.
It turned out that the venue of the birthday party was a bar-restaurant, very public, which meant there were no victims hanging over fires gagged with apples and covered in marinade. I assumed maybe it would come later, or maybe it had just been a joke.
Three people had prepared documents humorously defaming his character and sharing perverted anecdotes, which they read aloud to the assembled company. It was funny. We all laughed.
Only after the second person had gone did it click, and I came to understand– this is the roast. It was one of those things where you “roast” someone by making complete fun of them.
Oh.
You cannot imagine my disappointment.
When the floor was opened to other guests to defame the birthday boy, I got up on my chair, and added that it was a testament to the character of the friend that in the few short weeks I had known him, when he said “roast” I assumed he meant he was going to burn people.
Unfortunately the only fire involved was on the standard birthday candles in the cake (covered in blue roses). No one got burned. No one got hot wax dripped on them.
It was still fun.
I told the friend we should go outside and kidnap someone, tie them to a telephone pole, and torment them with lighters. He asked if it could be a really buff gay dude. I told him I would take anything. He told me that if he actually found a really buff gay guy to tie to a pole, that he would have to have at least an hour alone with him before I could come in. He said he would give me a deck of cards to amuse myself. “I just want to beat him up,” I said. “You can do whatever you want afterwards.”
