My idea of a good time is sitting in my house with all my bits and pieces around me and the radio on. I resent the person who has invited me out and away from all of that. My so-called friend. Why are they having a party? What is wrong with them? Such a babyish impulse, to long for everyone to be in one place for the night – chatting, laughing, dancing and generally living it up. Talk about needy.