No matter how long ago we moved out, there seems to be nostalgia for those carefree days of youth, Fat Frogs and the Irish institution that is the “free gaff”. As a result, even the most civilized house soirée can, how should we put it . . get a bit mental. Unless you are Kanye or Mariah and your entourage runneth 80-deep, rocking up with an extra body or five isn’t cool. We told you, we only made enough canapés and elderflower Prosecco for the guest list.
They may not be your neighbours, but we’re the ones who will have to suffer through the glares for the next while. So please, no bellowing, careless discarding of beverages, scaling the buildings or chucking empties over the garden wall.
When you do bring your booze, don’t monopolise the fridge. Cooling a drink or two is grand. Dumping a crate in there isn’t.
Unless your host is a smoker, lighting up inside is usually a categorical no. You can’t smoke in the pub so stubbing out a butt in the bouquet of orchids won’t fly – yep, you probably should have thought of a gift too. And use the ashtrays provided, we don’t have street cleaning in the back garden.
When you’ve had enough you should probably take yourself home. But, if you do wake up on the couch, the porch or the kitchen table, at least make yourself useful – the black bags are under the kitchen sink.