Dylan's Thoughts

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Funny Stories

How I threw a party and almost got busted

It was shortly after my 16th birthday. My parents were leaving home for two weeks on a trip to the States, and I had the house all to myself. And what does a teenager do when parents are gone? If you answered anything else than party with lots of alcohol, you probably never had a life. (Before I sound like a rebellious teenager, I’d like to mention that I’m 22)

I had this planned well in advance. I knew the exact date when they were leaving, so I didn't have to ask them and raise any suspicion.

The moment they left for the airport (it was shortly after noon on a Friday), I called two of my good friends and began preparations. First thing we did was move all valuables that could have gotten stolen or broken during the "event". Everything was either moved to the basement or locked in dad’s office. We took notes of where everything was, and even took pictures (!!!) of the rooms. Hell, we were pros! And I really needed that done -- I once broke a vase and had quickly bought another one to replace it before they got home from work. Guess what, they noticed it was moved by two inch; then they noticed the bar code that was glued on the bottom looked brand new, and so they got me.

When the party began, we were careful to leave the exterior lights off, so that we wouldn't get busted by the police. The blinds were drawn and everyone invited was instructed to car pool and leave the cars as far as possible from my house -- there's an office building nearby with a public parking lot, so everyone left their cars there. Whoever drove by must’ve thought those guys were doing extra hours.

I went as far as delete all texts and Skype logs from my phone and my laptop, just in case they would happen to play Sherlock Holmes on me.

Everything was going as planned. In the middle of the party, when everybody was a bit boozed up, the phone starts to ring. It was like 1am. My parents never call at such hours, unless something is really wrong. I turned off the music, asked everybody to shush and ran upstairs to my bedroom.

My parents were in NY and had received the news that a distant aunt of ours had died that evening. They were on the first flight back to London, which meant they were going to be home at 7pm or so. I almost cr*pped my pants.

Needless to say, I sent everyone home. We could have partied for a few more hours, because there was still plenty of time left, but I was so scared that I was thinking they were about to pop in any second. Some people still call me a party pooper now, after almost 6 years.

I started to do the damage control together with my two friends who had helped me organize stuff.

It was bad.

Alcohol was spilled all-over the place and everything smelled like cheap booze and tobacco. But that wasn’t something that couldn’t have been done in 17 hours, or whatever we had left.

But it was worse outside.

Dad had a small greenhouse in the garden. It had plastic glazing and – guess what – one of the shiteheads from our party had put off a cigarette on a plastic panel. The burn was pretty bad, and quite easy to spot. My parents don’t smoke, and no one else had access to the greenhouse.

We began to panic. I would've been grounded till my 50th birthday or so if they busted me -- mom had specifically asked me not to bring anyone in, let alone throw a monster party. I was so screwed.

Then the idea popped.

There had to be a greenhouse retailer in the area that could have had the panel replaced, and make it look like nothing had happened.

I did a Google search for greenhouse retailers in my area.

I ended up calling South West Greenhouses. I explained them that it was a rush job, and needed to be done yesterday. To my surprise, they were selling the exact same model of greenhouses my dad had, and had all parts in stock. I explained which panel I needed to replace, and even sent a picture of it. They asked what was wrong with it, because the frigging panel was there and looked alright. I … sighed, and told them that I’d explain them more when they got there.

They came around noon (mind you, it was on a Saturday) and did the job in less than an hour. The guys laughed their arses off when I told them why I needed to replace the panel. They took the old one, and offered me a hefty discount. I ended up paying £200ish. Needless to say, everybody from the party chipped in.

Up to this day, dad still wonders which angle the sun shines, or how the wind blows in our garden, because one of the two southwards panels looks so much better than the rest – it looks as good as new. And I still don’t know who the arsehole with the cigarette was.

I may tell them sometime what actually happened.