Your good jeans are not black tie
We had a work do at the beach this weekend. Beautiful resort (4 or 5 star) - accommodation and meals all paid for - It was a big deal. I also got to wear another dress and get all dressed up with high heels and make up and everything. For you see…the dress code was black tie.
Now I know that Rocky black tie is different to Brisbane black tie, but by absolutely no stretch of the imagination can denim jeans be classed as black tie. Not even if you add a sports coat. It’s just no.
And now that I have that off my chest, I can continue onto the rest of my adventure…starting with the drive down. Half an hour drive so I plugged in the mp3 player and cranked it up. To the drivers who overtook me and stared…yes, I know I looked weird while I was hitting those high notes, but in my car, no one can hear me scream and you should keep your eyes on the road - not on the crazy in the lane next to you.
To the other drivers that overtook me, I’m sorry that following the speed limit upset to so much that you had to swerve around me and take off in a cloud of dust. I’m still not going to apologise for laughing when I spotted the cop car before you did. I hope they caught you.
Also to the car that tailgated me along the one lane, reduced speed section of the highway. Again, not sorry for sticking to the limit. Evidently, I like my licence more than you do.
And now for the black tie dinner…oh, where to start. Yes, I am my father’s daughter. And no, I’m not going to behave myself, how kind of you to ask me everytime you see me during the night. Yes, I do work for the organisers of the dinner…no, I don’t know who won the awrds, now please can I just drink that free champagne?
And just a little hint to anyone ever nominated for multiple awards. Cheering EVERY TIME your company is mentioned by presenters is not required. We get the picture. We know where you’re from and I’ll now make it my business never to use yours.
To the guest speaker, yes, there were a few people talking at the back during your speech. Yes, I realise you did us a big favour when our original speaker had to pull out…however, you were boring. Very very boring. And for everyone else at the dinner, I would like to point out, that during your speech, I single handed counted the 128 light fittings on the roof, as well as the 607 separate roof tiles in the room. Yes, you were coma-inducing boring. Oh, and I did origami with my lucky door ticket.
To the chef, not everyone likes their steak rare. In fact, I’m fairly sure mine was still mooing when it hit the table. Please don’t be offended that I didn’t finish it, but it kept trying to jump of my plate and go back to the paddock - that’s how rare it was. And I’d also like to congratulate myself on not asking to tomato sauce.
I think that’s about all I have to complain about for the moment. Rest assured that I’m sure I will remember much more when I’m back at work tomorrow, but until then, a bit of advice for anyone planning any type of event…audition the band. Please. My ears are still bleeding from their first song. If nothing else, promise me that you’ll do this…for the greater good.
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