I thought Tupperware Parties were a Metaphor
I’ve always assumed Tupperware parties were a metaphor for something. You know, how hens parties don’t actually involve any hens. Baby showers don’t actually involve any babies or showers or babies pouring out from showers. And since when do house warming parties actually involve trying to get the house warm? Most of these parties, are in fact, just that. Parties. Excuses to get drunk, eat free food, receive presents or simply meet new people through friends of friends (a veiled way of saying hopefully get laid). Otherwise, why the fuck would anyone go to them?
So when, late last year, I was invited to a friend’s Tupperware “party” I assumed, naturally, there would be free food and drink overflowing from said Tupperware. I pictured the Tupperware chick getting everyone drunk and full off delicious food and drink from Tupperware containers and glasses and then saying ‘hey, look how fun this is, you guys should totally buy your own so you can do this every week’. I admit, selling Tupperware did seemed like an odd excuse to throw a party, but heck, a party’s a party right?
Wrong. Never have I ever been so wrong. Well, except for that time I thought skateboarding down a really steep hill would be the quickest way to learn... but I digress. In retrospect, I probably should have made an excuse to get the fuck out of there when the first alarm bell sounded. But for the sake of being polite (in front of my then-boyfriend’s friends), and being far too optimistic that at any moment a large tray of food would be pulled out of the fridge, I stayed.
I remember sitting on chairs in the kitchen and being handed a blank piece of paper and a crayon. The Tupperware lady, who I think had just come out of a long-term relationship and was now deep in the throws of a mid-life crisis (or at least that was the back-story I gave her), told us all to ‘close our eyes’ as she described a boat and a sun and a palm tree that we were supposed to draw.. Picture it. Seriously. About 15 grown-ass adults drawing boats on the ocean and a stupid fucking island with their eyes closed. The resulting scribbles looked like they had come out of a 2nd Grade special-ed class. I vaguely remember there being some bullshit message after the exercise that sounded like something written on a motivational poster from the 80s. ‘If you believe, you will achieve’ ‘a journey of 1000 miles begins with the first step’ ‘don’t run with scissors’.
The remainder of the time was spent simply listening to said Tupperware chick blatantly plug her plastic products and me trying not to looked ticked-off when someone asked a stupid follow-up question which dragged the nightmare out just that little bit longer.
Which brings me to me next point.
I feel the title ‘Tupperware party’ is misleading. Surely Tupperware sales pitch, Tupperware try-to-stay-awake test, Tupperware-it’s-really-sad-you-have-nothing-better-to-do-with-your-time support group.
But perhaps some good can come out of Tupperware parties. Like self-reflection. I think if you’re ever unfortunate enough to find yourself inviting a stranger into your home to lecture you and your friends about plastic containers, you really need to re-evaluate what you’re doing with your life. Time is precious. Why not spend that three hours going on a walk somewhere you’ve never been, read the paper at a cafe that isn’t the one you go to everyday. Spark up a conversation with a complete stranger (just make sure it’s in a very public place where there are witnesses). Figure out what your long term goals are and make a start on them. Invite your friends around simply to get drunk, eat, laugh and make memories. Do anything, I beg, but sit around and stare at Tupperware. Peace out.