It's a Wrap!

Friday night was the end Junior League’s End of Season Party. It’s a good time. 4 different bars on 3 different floors. Dancing. Fancy hors d’oeurves and pigs in blankets (or as my friend, John calls them, “wiener bugs”). As an aside, I love how everyone gravitates to the pigs in blankets. Even at the most chi-chi-la-di-da affair, everyone crowds around the pigs. Sure, they’ll go on about the marscapone stuffed figs, but they’re shoveling those pigs down their throats like there’s no tomorrow.

Anyway, Friday night is the big party. Showed up around 9, met up with my friends, grabbed drinks, and let the festivities begin.
A few hours later and we’re on the dance floor. It’s jam packed and the girls are dancing with girls and the boys are dancing on the outskirts. It’s like the best middle school dance you ever had. Except better, ‘cause you’re not 13 anymore.

The dj puts on the “bring the house down” set: “Gold Digger,” “I Want You Back,” “Run Around Sue,” and “Sweet Caroline.” The joint is jumping. And then, in the middle of Sweet Caroline (Ba! Ba! Ba!) it happened. My lovely wrap dress came un-wrapped. In the middle of the dance floor. And I didn’t notice. Yeah, I’m good like that.

Amanda jumps in front of me, grabs me in a hug, and screams “Your DRESS!” Somehow, in the middle of 150 drunk Young Republicans, we manage to get the dress re-wrap and I’m back in action just in time to get the last verse of Sweet Caroline.

I’d like to say that you can dress me up but you can’t take me out, but apparently you can’t even do that.