i knew i would likely be out of my element.
these kinds of affairs are fancy. i'm not very good at fancy.
but i prepared myself. i wore the right dress. i did not, however, prepare for the torrential downpour.
as i arrived. there it was. a red carpet.
seriously?
and i wondered if i would need to tell someone, "oh the dress? the dress is h&m." it may not have the same ring as "vintage chanel." but the dress was doing its job. and for a beautifully low price.
as we entered the event. i immediately turned to my friend with a look of, "help!"
there were streams of ridiculously good-looking people. who somehow managed to avoid the wet-dog look i had developed. i struggled to wrap my umbrella. my homemade scarf wouldn't quite fit in my knockoff bag.
and then we explored. there was absolutely amazing food and drinks everywhere. some stationary. but quite a bit was floating through the crowds. deliciously mobile.
i made my way to the extravagant bar, asking simply for a white wine. when the bartender presented my drink with particular flair. and i instinctively pointed out, "ooo! that was fancy."
immediately it occurred to me: fancy people don't say something's fancy.
oops.
moving on, i couldn't resist taking the initiative to ask a server if i could start eating from the buffet. so i did. and about 30 minutes later, we noticed everyone else had joined the trend.
but still. what was with the red carpet? yes. audi's newest car was quite extraordinary. we noticed that much as they drove it through the crowd.
through. the. crowd.
but camera crews? the flashing bulbs? we hadn't seen anyone page-six worthy.
even when i saw heather graham enter the party. looking flawless. i thought, "that's it?"
but then i noticed more excitement as others showed. mostly models. many i didn't really recognize. but they were spectacularly attractive. and very tall. i did the math.
we began wandering the crowd. i made my way over to "the car." i will admit. it was sleek as hell. as i stood there admiring the star of the evening, i was approached by sal.
sal is a car salesman. of course. and he could see me in that car. of course. i assured him that i was not a likely buyer. but, throughout the evening, sal became a comrade of sorts. a squatty little middle-aged man. barely my height. with thick glasses. he provided some sense of groundedness in an otherwise heavenly bunch.
a little later in the evening, an announcement was made that there would be a speech. snore. but, as the speaker began talking, my friend and i exchanged questioning glances. stephen colbert? i didn't know he did car comedy. he spoke about 5 minutes. breezed past us. and later i caught him speaking with entertainment tonight.
i knew this evening had been entertaining for me. surreal actually. but entertainment tonight? again. i was somewhat puzzled by the clamor surrounding the r8 - the car we had all been called upon to drool over.
while entertainment tonight was reporting in the distance, i noticed a lot of picture-taking happening literally in front of me. as this man stood directly in front of me, i casually glanced to gain some memory. some recognition. as he walked away, i asked the photographer who the man was. the photographer confirmed. that was wyclef jean. the photographer asked if i'd seen anyone else. he noted that he'd already taken shots of heather graham. i offered up molly shannon as a new conquest. his eyebrows raised as he asked where she'd gone. i pointed. and he was off.
it was time to head to the unavoidable bathroom line. as i waited outside the door to one of the individual restrooms. i assumed i was standing in line behind a large black man. he looked purposeful. the door opened for my turn. and wyclef stepped out. his imposing companion leading the way. i went into the little room with my own eyebrows raised.
wyclef apparently doesn't flush.
but maybe he didn't have time. he headed straight to the stage and began performing. everything from old school fugees to his solo work.
at one point in his set, i saw a white guy take the stage. i giggled at the very straight-laced "suit" attempting to hang with wyclef. but this guy had the last laugh. because before i knew it, wyclef handed the mike over. and the man that had crashed the stage began singing every single word of the wyclef song. and he was good.
that was my cue.
time to leave.
it's always best to go out on top.
