Thursday, September 11, 2014

beautiful people, skin deep

SB and I were invited to a friend's charity night party at a club in LKF. The theme was white (clothing, not people). When we arrived at the unfashionably early time of 10pm, the club was already packed due to the all you can drink for three hours limit. It's a good business model because the club can gain patronage for the earlier portion of the evening and then open its doors for regular business after midnight when most of the LKF patrons start migrating from cocktail lounges to dance clubs. As for the music, the DJ started out with a fantastic set that very quickly became mediocre. It was a disappointment.

The white party attendees were stunning, at least the female population. 80% of the women were wearing one of two outfits: lace micro-dresses with sky high heels or tiny, tiny shorts with sky high heels. The men in white called to mind fleet week. "Hey, sailors!" I called at the group who had elbowed me out of the way to the bar. Yeah, beautifully dresses people aren't necessary beautiful on the inside, even while drinking for charity.

In fact, at one point in the evening I felt myself being pushed as I made my was through the crowd to the dance floor. I turned around but the gorgeous blonde woman in a pair of white shorts and beaded top didn't seem to notice me so I attributed the push to be accidental. Then a few steps later, I felt it again. And again but this time hard enough for me to stumble in my own sky high heels. I whipped around to find the same blonde woman behind me and still averting her gaze. "Excuse me," I said loudly, "why are you shoving me?" She then looked at me as though she had just noticed that I was there in front of her and said, "Oh," Then she fell back and I was able to continue moving without her hands on my back. Later I pointed her out to SB as we watched her shove a tiny, Chinese woman on her way to the bar.

I hardly ever went to LKF and Wyndham Street anymore; as much as I used to enjoy frequenting beautifully designed bars and partaking in exotic cocktails, I grew to despise the clientele of bitchy, skinny women (I have a theory that their attitude is fueled by hunger pangs) or posturing, vain men. Case in point, I was chatting with a friend when a fellow banker colleague of his interrupted, stepping literally in between us before putting his arm around my friend and trying to walk him away while telling him that he wanted to introduce him to someone. My friend, a master of diplomacy, managed to politely disengage with the colleague and I managed to paste a pleasant smile on my face and hide what I really thought of Mr. Important Banker. My efforts were wasted because Mr. Important Banker didn't appear to notice my presence while standing directly between me and my friend. Despite his lack of stature, he managed to look over me when facing my direction.

Later in the evening SB and I dealt with a situation when a woman tried to climb up on the stage and fell. She sustained a very deep, nasty cut on her leg. No one else moved to assist her, not even the jerk men who had just a minute previously been dancing with her. The two of us escorted her and her wobbly friend to the door and made the friend promise to go straight to the hospital because the woman needed stitches. The woman kept dabbing at the huge cut with a tiny napkin and staring blankly at us. I eventually got her to stop fixating on the cut and she told me in a shaky voice that she was a model. "It's going to be okay," I assured her even though I had no idea what a scar would do to her career,"but you should go straight to the hospital so that they can close the wound as soon as possible." She finally seemed to comprehend what I was telling her and they left in a taxi.

One thing I will concede is that these (pretending to be) fabulous people raised a lot of money for charity. Every few minutes, a waitress was seen carrying a bottle of champagne with a lit sparkler in it to call attention to the big spender who had ordered it. Similarly, special trays of shots were leaving the bar as quickly as the bartender could pour them. In the end, the event was a massive success for the charity and SB and I enjoyed catching up with our friends surrounded by a sea of white lace and champagne bottle sparklers.

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