I may or may not be putting off doing my homework by watching “What’s My Line” on Youtube.
It all began one randomly-planned night in late November. Upon walking my dog, picking up my gown from the seamstress and eating cheeseburgers, Kallie asked if I wanted to come with her to the Festival to watch her boyfriend, Logan.
We got there (I was still shoving my mouth full of a Blizzard even), and stood at the ticket booth with a confused look on our face. Where were the fleece vest-clad ticket people? And why were all these people dressed to the nines? After deciding to just go inside, we discovered that this was the VIP Opening Gala for the Festival. Let me tell you: there are not many events in Red Deer that you can dress up for, so these people went ALL OUT. Gowns of every colour and fabric. Some really nice. Some really….highschool prom-y (that’s you, lady on the dance floor who danced like a hippie at Woodstock).
Either way, these were Red Deer’s richest people, who had paid $100 per plate to attend this gala, and there we were….horribly under dressed (I was in stretchy pants).
We attempted to retreat to the gift store, thinking that we would stand out less there. That turned out to be in vain. I could feel the volunteer’s beady eyes staring at me as I tried to seem really enamoured with some scarves. Eventually, I gave up and decided to start making back-up plans. The one that seemed most successful went like this:
“Ladies…are you supposed to be here?”
“Uhhhhm….we’re actually your….ENTERTAINMENT!”
Proceed with breaking into an operatic duet. Red Deer’s finest fall in love with our voices and hire us to sing prestigious gigs, cementing our fame in Red Deer for good.
I may have added that last part on there for good measure.
The band that Logan played with was a country band who was really good. At first I thought that a country band would be really out of place in that setting, but then I remembered that it’s RED DEER. You can dress us up and take us out, but you sure as hell can’t stop us from two-stepping when the band plays “Chicken-Fried” by Zac Brown.
We ended up awkwardly standing at a table for a couple hours with a couple of ladies who were VIPs, and obviously a little tipsy. We told them that we were crashing this party, and they told us that everyone was probably too drunk to notice. Then they brought us free chocolate martinis.
And that is how Kallie and I crashed the VIP Gala….in stretchy, spandex pants.
