“It’s a fundraiser. For art. You’ll need to dress up.”
Every boyfriend’s worst nightmare?
You bet your sweet ass.
Needless to say, when I had the chance to go to a super secret party – the location of which wasn’t to be announced until twelve hours prior to the start – I outsourced my date in the form of my cousin the hand model, always up for just about anything especially when I describe what we’d be doing as “getting Gossip Girled out”.
So there we were, sass coming out the wazoo, drinking free drinks, eating free sushi, and pretending to get art. Me: flying high on red bull. Her: wine drunk to the point of being best friends with every stranger she could get her hands on. She was like an overzealous wingman on cocaine.
It was actually kind of fabulous – especially when she hit on the heirs (plural) of a national grocery chain. That part was my favourite.
But my purpose in writing is to teach you all a valuable lesson: just because there IS a Twitter hashtag for an event doesn’t mean anyone is using it but you. You will only wake up to learn that the hashtag documented each ridiculous point of your evening and nothing else.
YOU’RE WELCOME, EVENT ORGANIZERS.
And yes. That’s the actual caption from the newspaper that published the picture.
My life is amazing.
Or art.
I’m still not sure.