nobody tell them the living room exists

The party was supposed to happen in the living room, where we had put the good speakers and the lamps, and by ten everyone was in the kitchen anyway, twelve of us against the counters, someone sitting in the sink. The oven stayed warm all night and nobody could say what for. Somebody's girlfriend taught us a card game with rules that nobody could hold onto twice, and the losing got louder every round.

At two in the morning the last of us were still there, picking at the cold garlic bread, one candle going on the windowsill, and I remember thinking, this is it, this is the whole thing, nobody tell them the living room exists.