you know you’re at a good party when the quiet guy you met while fixing a drink in the kitchen spontaneously goes to the pool by himself, stares silently at the water for a few minutes, strips down to his shorts, jumps into the pool, splashes around for a bit, exits the pool, puts his shirt back on, and rejoins the party upstairs. the only warning you had was a snippet of conversation you heard between him and the party’s host: “sure, as long as you keep your shorts on.”

also of note: the guy was a big fan of Russian authors (we chatted about The Brothers Karamazov) and appeared to be under the influence of at least one mind-altering substance.