So I attended a black tie gala last night thanks to my friend Ashley. It was the NYU Medical Center’s Violet Ball to honor this guy who donated 200 million dollars to the hospital. That’s pretty nutty. To be able to donate 200 million dollars and not even flinch. For me, that would be equal to like 50 dollars, and even that would make me flinch a little. Anyway, these were the highlights:
- The rich old white lady singing Ray Charles in the way only a rich old white lady can.
Said old white lady telling everyone in the room to shush because she still has two more songs to go and it’s rude to talk. Yes, she said shush to millionaires and doctors and millionaire doctors. But it worked! Good for you old lady, keep on rockin’
- The opening speaker of the night whose first line was “I want to open with some sad news.”
(Insert us thinking that this must be a jokey opener and mumbling ‘oh someone died today” while guzzling wine.)
“Mr. Allen Peters died tragically today. Let’s have a moment of silence”
(Insert us spitting wine with shock of this terrible way to open a fancy happy dinner, followed by Alex asking if we are allowed to drink during the moment of silence, then more wine spewing, me laughing during silence, and finally the devil marking down another point in his tally for my soul.)
- The 62 year old Cougar that pretended she was 46, loved Ryan, and told me she was too young to have listened to Bob Dylan.
- Ashley’s genuine surprise at discovering her stockings were crotch-less.
- Deodorant on my dress = rookie mistake.
- Alex insulting millionaires from Queens.
The event also made me realize that I am not cut out to wear stiletto heels, because no matter how sexy they make me feel I know I am walking like an ostrich. I also realized that just because you have money doesn’t mean that you don’t dress like you are going to junior prom. And lastly I realized that although it is really cool to dabble in the world of endless wine and black ties, it is not a place I would want to be all the time. And that’s nice to know, since I can gather that I probably won’t be there anyway.
- The rich old white lady singing Ray Charles in the way only a rich old white lady can.
Said old white lady telling everyone in the room to shush because she still has two more songs to go and it’s rude to talk. Yes, she said shush to millionaires and doctors and millionaire doctors. But it worked! Good for you old lady, keep on rockin’
- The opening speaker of the night whose first line was “I want to open with some sad news.”
(Insert us thinking that this must be a jokey opener and mumbling ‘oh someone died today” while guzzling wine.)
“Mr. Allen Peters died tragically today. Let’s have a moment of silence”
(Insert us spitting wine with shock of this terrible way to open a fancy happy dinner, followed by Alex asking if we are allowed to drink during the moment of silence, then more wine spewing, me laughing during silence, and finally the devil marking down another point in his tally for my soul.)
- The 62 year old Cougar that pretended she was 46, loved Ryan, and told me she was too young to have listened to Bob Dylan.
- Ashley’s genuine surprise at discovering her stockings were crotch-less.
- Deodorant on my dress = rookie mistake.
- Alex insulting millionaires from Queens.
The event also made me realize that I am not cut out to wear stiletto heels, because no matter how sexy they make me feel I know I am walking like an ostrich. I also realized that just because you have money doesn’t mean that you don’t dress like you are going to junior prom. And lastly I realized that although it is really cool to dabble in the world of endless wine and black ties, it is not a place I would want to be all the time. And that’s nice to know, since I can gather that I probably won’t be there anyway.
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