People from miles around have been flocking to Jay Gatsby’s house located on the West Egg of Long Island for what many say are the best parties thrown in America. Gatsby’s parties have been called exciting, exhilarating, extraordinary, but dangerous? Just the other night I was an attendee at one of these exotic parties (for research purposes, of course) and witnessed many activities that were both dangerous and illegal. There was drinking, unsupervised swimming, I even saw a man flip an automobile in Gatsby’s front yard! It was miraculous that there were no casualties by the end of the night. However, it is not just the people at the party who are exposed to this reckless behavior, but his neighbors are forced to put up with it as well. How can they bear the loud drunkards and the even louder music that radiates from Gatsby’s yard with surprising regularity? One thing that surprised me was that these parties are allowed to continue as they do. Does he pay off the police force or something? There is enough alcohol at these events to fill the bay West Egg sits on, not to mention the reckless driving that occurs as a result of this bootleg moonshine. It would be no surprise to me if someone were struck down in the middle of the street after one of these events.

Another thing I found surprising after attending one of these parties was the lack of a Gatsby. Where does this mysterious host go, and more importantly, who is he? Some say he has killed a man, while others say he is a graduate of Oxford. I would hazard to guess that this Gatsby doesn’t even exist. He is just a phantom conjured up by the mob so they can get away with selling illegal alcohol at a party. I was only able to procure one firsthand account of the mysterious Gatsby from one of his neighbors, Nick Caraway. Caraway told me of a brief encounter he had with Gatsby, “He stretched out his arms toward the dark water in a curious way, and, far as I was from him, I could have sworn he was trembling. Involuntarily, I glanced seaward- and distinguished nothing except a single green light.” Before he could strike up a conversation about this mysterious green light and the even more mysterious man, he was whisked away by an inebriated young woman speaking of a meeting she had with Gatsby himself. So now I ask you, my faithful readers, would you want to attend a party with a mysterious host, loud music, and illegal liquor? What sane person could ever choose to expose themselves to the vices and actually have fun? Certainly not my God fearing readers.