The Social Butterfly
Yesterday afternoon Z came home and told me we were invited to a gathering later in the evening by a client/friend of his for his girlfriend’s surprise birthday party. Oh goody. I’m going to be immersed in a bunch of people (around 30) that I don’t know.
Don’t get me wrong, I like gatherings! A lot. I’m a friendly person; definitely NOT a wallflower by any stretch of the imagination. It’s just that, well, I’ve been a wee bit down lately, what with the no job situation, my vacation being delayed until WHENEVER and all. But you know, you kinda have to be in the MOOD for one of these gatherings. It wouldn’t be so bad if I knew someone there at least.
But wait! I it seems that I have met the birthday girl, Lisa, before. It would seem that I spent a majority of a Christmas Party about 3 years ago chatting with Lisa. She is a sweetie. Oh good. I DO know someone. Anyway, I figured, “Oh what the hell, at least I’ll get out of the house for a while, right?” Right.
Boy oh boy did I EVER!!!!!! Heh.
I got myself all dolled up. Hell, it’s amazing what a little eyeliner and lipstick and blush do for a woman’s mood. Especially ME! The makeup maniac. (But that, my darlings, is another post altogether!!) Scarlett sings: “I feel pretty! Oh so pretty! Oh so pretty and happy and …..” Well, you know the rest!
We showed up a little after 8:30 pm. Z was telling me to go in first. OH NO HE DOESN’T! He wasn’t being gentlemanly. No sireebob! Nope. He was shy. I told him, “Get yer butt in front of me, cause YOUR friend invited us, and I have no idea what he looks like and I’ve never met him!”. So, he did. Then, after the introductions, I start looking around at the gang of people gathered in the bar for Lisa’s party. Jesus, Mary and Joseph! Everyone is in their mid to late 50’s at least! JJ asks me what I want for a drink, I take another glance at all the quiet, generally stuffy appearing older people and say, “MARGERITA PLEASE!” with a smile. Z looks at me like I’ve grown a second head. Hee hee heeeeeee. Good.
Blah blah blah. Lisa comes over, is so excited that we came, she hasn’t seen us in AGES, yadda yadda yadda, etc.. and all. (She is really a sweetheart!) Here comes my drink in JJ’s hand. GIMMIE!!!!!!! I take it from him and take a sip…………..
THANK YOU LORD. It’s really, really good. I mean I haven’t had a margarita this good since I left Los Angeles in 1998! (Rose Ann, like the ones down the street from work, good!) PERFECT. Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh. I stand around happily sipping my drink while Z and Lisa chit chat. (anybody’s guess where JJ went)
Thankfully it’s time to move to the tables. I am much better in these type of situations. NOW I am completely at ease. We sit down and I proceed to get to know our tablemates. In our general vicinity it is all women… but next to the lady sitting to my left is Ryan. (Remember this name for later on please) The lady next to me is a lovely Australian woman who seems to be in her early 40’s. Laura. She is a joy to sit next to. Turns out Laura’s hubby is an investment banker and when she asked me what I do and I explained, she choked on her drink. It seems that he is looking for an Executive PA. Isn’t that lovely? (Yeah, I worked it but good!) Across from me is Z. Next to him is an older lady with long ass blonde hair named Diane. I like me some Diane. Diane is older, yet very chic and elegant with loads of tasteful jewelry. Diane is British but with some Irish ancestry I believe. This little fact will also come in handy in a moment.
Hold on to your undies, for heavens sake!
The restaurant is more like an art gallery. Directly behind Z is a small stage with a mural on the wall and there sits the entertainment. A man with a good voice and a guitar and 2 big ass speakers. The lights are very dim, with spots on the artwork and there are candle tapers placed in the middle of the tables. So lovely. (Cause ladies, don’t we all know we look beautiful and enchanting by candlelight?” YUP!
Around now, a waiter comes around with a frothy pitcher of margaritas. He tops my almost empty glass up. I’m a happy woman. As we are all enjoying the ecstasy of our newly refilled drinks and getting to know each other..... I hear my dear husband stick his foot in his mouth with his usual comment to Diane who is seated next to him.
He apparently explained that I am Irish-American and she said “Yes, she is so obviously Irish with her amazing coloring-look at those big green eyes and that thick red hair!- and her beautiful complexion… only the Irish have a skin tone that pure and milky a white!” (I so love me some Diane right now!) Enter Z with his comment “Yeah, hah! And she has an Irish temper too!”
DOH! Wrong thing to say, I think.
Diane’s face went from a charming smile to narrowed blue slits for eyes, a set mouth, and very serious expression when she said “What temper? The Irish are known for being fun loving, and for breaking into song and dance. Friendly and charming with a love for a good drink now and then! The Irish don’t have tempers, so they my dear?” She asks me, smiling into my eyes. I smile at her and say sweetly “What temper?” as I daintily pick up my glass and as ladylike as possible suck down some of the contents. Heh. Z looks like he swallowed an octopus tentacle and it’s gotten stuck in his craw. Gawd I love when that happens. I wanted to ask “Would you like fries with that dear?”
This is the SECOND time that he has made this comment to someone about me that has IRISH BLOOD and they call him on it. HAH! It would seem he never learns, doesn’t it?
Ok never mind that I do have a temper. My full-blown temper isn’t all that often seen.. Naw, its rarely seen. If I lose my “Irish” temper, you will know it. Definitely. My temper is much like a volcano. It lies dormant for a while, and then, once the pressure cannot build any more, KABOOOOOOM!
But I digress.
They bring us starters, which we make short work of. Much like my drink. By now I’m on my 3rd refill and chatting away with everyone at my table. The main course is ordered and now they bring around a lovely white wine. Like I’m going to say no? Too late, it was placed in front of me. Oh well. I DO like white wine.
More talking and what not. I find out that I am sitting amidst millionaire bankers and businessmen. Everyone is either British, Australian, or some other type of European. There is one couple from Africa. You know, the white Africans in Zimbabwe that got kicked off their farms, their land taken from them, blah blah? That would be Ryan and Deborah.
Ryan loves him some drink, does Ryan. HE is a damn hoot. Another gentleman that loves his alcohol is Charles, Diane’s hubby. He is the freaking Millionaire banker that owns 8 investment banks. That Charles is a cheeky bugger.
Let me speed things up, hmmmm? Dinner comes, and for me, Lord only knows how many margarita refills. I lost count somewhere around 7. I know it was more, but hell if I know how many. Well! I’m not the only one drinking! Everyone by now is all friendly and having a lovely time. I don’t usually drink. There is never any alcohol in my house. (Ok, but that’s mainly cause Monster drinks booze like it’s water if it’s around and she’s in a freaking desert, ok? So I wouldn’t get any anyway!) My husband doesn’t drink at all. I drink on special occasions. Like this. (Hey Rose Ann, any outing with you is considered a special occasion sweetie!)
After dinner, Charles, who is by now quite high on his drinks, and who, I find out, Loves to dance, starts dancing with his wife. I think to myself how adorable they are and how very graceful. He does the whole ballroom/swing-dancing thing. I am enchanted. The singer leaves and puts on soft music. A little while later, once the restaurant is pretty much cleared out and we are on our own, Charles and Diane’s daughter and her friends, male and female, come to crash the party. They are all between the ages of 18- 22ish. One particularly adorable tall lanky guy eventually hops up on the stages, takes hold of the acoustic guitar attached to some amps and speakers and proceeds to blow our damn minds with his fucking AMAZING TALENT.
This guy, Eddie, he can sing and play man. He knows how to get an audience involved too! Someone get this guy a freaking recording contract NOW. He has a beautiful deep scratchy singing voice with a helluva range. He whipped out with some Little Richard, Beatles, Rolling Stones (I can’t get no sa-tis-faaaaaaction!!!!!!!)Jimmy Buffett, and MORE MORE MORE! The song “American Pie” more times than I want to remember, The Eagles, some 80s music, some 90’s, everything in between, and new millennium stuff too! Bloody hell. He covered every freaking decade for 40+ years! AND HE WAS GOOD. We were all singing and everyone started dancing. Well, I was sitting. A few of us were. For now.
Charles moseyed up and asked me for to dance. Z shrugged, and I said to myself “Why the hell not?” So I accepted. Dayum! I haven’t danced like this since I don’t know when!
Yes my lovelies, Scarlett was in the middle of the dance floor with the dancer that knew his stuff doing some major swing-dance moves. WOOOOOOOHOOOOOOOOOO!!!! He danced with me for two songs, since he thought I was such a good dance partner. I was a bit rusty, but it comes right back, like riding a bicycle. I was having so much fun and laughing y’all!!!!! WHEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!
I was finally returned to my seat. More drink refills ensued, and I found myself singing with Eddie and the rest of the gang to his songs. I see the Philippino waiters over in the corner tapping their feet and clapping along with the music. They are enjoying themselves too. Suddenly, from out of nowhere, I see one of them fly up onto the stage, snatch a tambourine from God Knows WHERE and start shaking his shit and his tambourine up next to Eddie, really getting into it! Can you all imagine my face? I was in freaking hysterics people. The little waiter guy was SO INTO IT. And he was doing well too, bless his heart!
The waiter, continued on, and in a bit, he went FUCKING INSANE! He started dancing and running all over the damn place in a complete FRENZY Y’ALL!!!!!!!! Like he was on crack and going through withdrawals. I was INSENSATE and staring openmouthed at the spectacle unfolding before my eyes! Then I started laughing so hard that I couldn’t breathe!
This brings a whole new meaning to ROTFLMAO.
Damn I wish I had pictures. I really do.
When I get my breath back, I start singing along at the top of my voice at this point, with everyone else. Scarlett can project her voice, (can’t I Costrina?) and it seems she hasn’t forgotten how to do so either!! Heh. Remember this too, my lovelies.
Round about 2:30am, we are all still going strong. I was sitting there, still clutching my bottomless pit of a margarita glass in my hand and finding myself completely amazed that all these people that I am with who were all being so stuffy, circumspect and proper are now drunk off their asses and ALL OVER THE DANCE FLOOR. Funny what tequila does to people, innit?
In the middle of my musings and general mental repetitions inside my head of “I am SO BLOGGING THIS TOMORROW!!!!! Mustn’t forget anything!”, well, this is when Ryan, who we all gave up and gave him his own pitcher with a straw, comes over and yanks me out of my chair for a dance. He is SO shitfaced I don’t know how he stands, much less plans to dance. But dance we did. Until he started twirling me, and then couldn’t decide if he wanted to lead, or to let me lead, and then he made ME twirl HIM whereupon he promptly spun out of control and would have fallen on a table if I hadn’t grabbed him! He started laughing uproariously at this, and then decided to do a waltz-like dance instead. I couldn’t help myself. I was laughing my head off by this time at Ryan’s antics. I finally escaped and sat back in my seat.
More singing and watching OTHERS dance madly until slowly people went close to 3 am. Eddie had stopped singing at this point. I found out that Z had invited JJ and Lisa over for me to cook dinner for them in the near future, and suddenly it was just Z and myself, Eddie, JJ and Lisa. Eddie’s friends were outside, Z, JJ and Lisa were talking, and I decided to compliment Eddie on his rather obvious talent. He told me the sweetest thing, this lovely Swedish guy that was so cute that the Brit ladies sitting with me were earlier saying they could fancy a shag with him, please let him be LEGAL. He said. “You are a singer, I could hear you over everyone’s voices. You knew all the words. Next time, come up and sing with ME! You have to!”.
Wow. Thanks cutie pie. You just made my night! I said thank you, and sure, next time I’d sing with him. I left the cutie pie comment out.
Z and I got home at 3:30am to monster and her dramatics waiting for us. She hates it when we go out or have a good time. I ran in, jumped in the shower, and then crawled in the bed around 4am and slept like a baby.
This morning, I woke up perfectly fine. No pounding head. NO sensitivity to light. Nada. Yes, yet again, I have made my Irish Nana proud. She would haunt me if I let a little tequila bring me low.
So what do you all think, hmmmm? Does it sound like I had fun?
Man, I want a drink- monster is STIL bitching about our outing.