The Art of Having People Over

Somewhere along the way, having people over started sounding like hosting.

Which sounds expensive.

Hosting sounds like you should own matching serving dishes. Maybe linen napkins. You should probably know how to cook something that requires more than one pan.

Absolutely not.

Sometimes having people over is ordering enough takeout for eight people, putting it on real plates, lighting a candle and acting like this was the plan all along.

Presentation.

THE HOUSE SHOULD KNOW SOMETHING IS HAPPENING

This is important.

Move something.

Dim the lights.

Buy flowers from the grocery store.

Put something weird on the TV with the sound off.

Make a playlist nobody will consciously notice but you would absolutely notice if it were wrong.

You don’t need to transform your apartment.

It should just look like your apartment knew people were coming.

If it’s a watch party, though, commit.

Decorations. Snacks vaguely related to whatever everyone is watching. Something unnecessarily themed.

Six people coming over to watch television is a perfectly reasonable excuse to decorate like a nationally recognized holiday.

We’ve celebrated less.

YOU DO NOT HAVE TO COOK

This needs to be said.

There is no moral superiority in personally preparing the pasta.

Order the food.

Put it in bowls.

Get too many sides.

Have something sweet.

And always order slightly more than you think you need because nothing kills abundance faster than eight adults silently negotiating the last three french fries.

Get another order.

Nobody has ever left someone’s house saying, “Great night, shame they didn’t personally make the hummus.”

The point is that everyone gets fed.

Although cooking with someone is different.

Two people in a kitchen. One chopping something. The other opening cabinets they have no business opening.

Tasting the sauce.

Talking while dinner takes forty minutes longer than expected.

That’s its own thing.

Keep that.

PEOPLE NEED SOMEWHERE TO LAND

This might actually be the whole trick.

Have somewhere to put a bag.

Have somewhere to sit.

Have water.

Have ice.

Know where the phone charger is.

The best houses to hang out in aren’t necessarily the nicest ones.

They’re the ones where nobody has to keep asking permission.

At some point, shoes come off.

Someone claims the good spot on the couch.

A bag ends up on a chair.

Someone opens the fridge without asking.

The person who said they could only stay for an hour is still there three hours later.

Now we’re getting somewhere.

YOUR APARTMENT SHOULD LOOK WORSE BY THE END

A successful night at someone’s house has evidence.

Glasses everywhere.

Couch cushions moved.

Takeout containers open.

Somebody’s jacket has been abandoned in a location that makes absolutely no sense.

Someone is charging their phone in a room they do not live in.

Beautiful.

That’s when people have stopped behaving like guests.

Which is considerably better than everyone sitting upright on your couch complimenting the candle.

DON’T OVERPROGRAM IT

You need one reason for everyone to come over.

Dinner.

A movie.

A game.

Someone’s birthday.

The finale of something three people actually care about and five others have agreed to pretend they watch.

After that, leave it alone.

The movie will get paused because someone starts telling a story.

Dinner will become sitting on the floor.

The game might never leave the box.

Good.

You invited people over. You are not cruise staff.

JUST TELL EVERYONE TO COME OVER

That’s really it.

Clean the bathroom.

Put food somewhere people can reach it.

Fix the lighting.

Make the playlist.

Have more ice than seems reasonable.

Then stop touching things.

Your house doesn’t need to be impressive.

It just needs to feel like you wanted people in it.

And yes, order the extra fries.

You’re being weird about the fries.