Another Friday, Another Gala, Another Opportunity to Make a Fool out of Myself

So...we're at another gala on Friday night. This time the invitation listed the attire as "Garden Party", whatever that means. Not being a fan of floral prints, I pretty much was stumped on what I should wear. "Why, you should wear that cute sundress Husband bought for you last Spring!" MIL declared. Seeing where my failure to heed her advice got me last time, I decide to comply.

I could *swear* that the dress fit when I put it on, but more on that later.

Anyway, the gala was held in a beautiful botanical garden with beautiful people and beautiful art work up for auction. Husband and I strolled around and admired the scenery, then made our way to our table under the tent. I located my place at the table and found that I was seated next to a distinguished gentleman who heads a world-renowned charity. I've met him in the past and was happy to be seated next to him as we always have a good time conversing. He may be important, but he sure is fun and unpretentious!


Dinner was catered by The Four Seasons and included filet mignon with creamy mushroom risotto and a seared bay scallop. It was wonderful. Unfortunately, as we tucked into our entrees the event planners sensed a captive audience and seized the microphone.

"Excuse me! EXCUUUUUSE MEEEEEE! EXCUSE ME!" she barked into the microphone. Her voice is so grating that people visibly jumped in their seats. Some turned her way, irritation written all over their faces. Others ignored her.

"I just wanted to remind you that we have a lot of wonderful art up for auction and to encourage you to go place your bids. This is a charity event, after all."

Let me just stop right here. Sure, we were guests of my Husband's parents and paid not one red cent to be there, however, it cost *them* quite a bit of money to host a table of ten people. Therefore, my irritation at this woman's fundraising tactics was on the behalf of my in-laws. And my hearing (she seriously has a very obnoxious voice). She drives home the point that money cannot buy class as she is one of the richest women in Austin.

She continued to browbeat us for contributions but most everyone tuned her out and resumed their respective conversations. She continued to browbeat us sporadically throughout the evening, but we all became very skilled at ignoring her.

Fast-forward to dessert. By now it is apparent to me (and some others, as I found out later) that my sundress very decidedly did not fit, at least not in the chest. Either the pregnancy hormones struck my chest that night, or my judgement is terrible. Either way, by the time our ganache glazed chocolate mousse mini-cakes were served, I couldn't breath.

Of course, no one needs oxygen in order to eat dessert, so I ignored my discomfort and dug in with relish! I was about halfway through the cake when my fork, topped with a big bite of cake, flipped into the air. On any other occasion I probably would have been too uncoordinated to catch that fork, but these were extenuating circumstances. Chocolate-mousse-ganache-covered cake cannot be wasted! I caught the fork midair and resumed eating my dessert. While munching, I mentally did the math. Let's see...gooey chocolate mousse cake on a fork, fork flies through the air, I stop the motion mid flight by catching the fork, cake appears to stay on the fork...

I snap my head around and start looking for traces of wayward chocolate mousse. Almost immediately, I spot some on the suit coat of the distinguished gentleman next to me.

Oh crap. Oh crap, oh crap, oh crap!

"Er, I don't know how to tell you this, John..." I begin. He turns my way.

"Yes?" he asks, smiling.

"Um, well, I believe you have cake all over your suit coat. I have no idea how it got there."

Okay, I didn't really say that last part. I may be gutless, but I'm not *that* gutless. What I really did was tell him in great detail the story of how my fork flipped up in the air and I caught it mid flight and blah, blah, blah.

"Oh really!" he exclaimed. (Seriously, this guy is awesome. Who else of his magnitude would act like my cake-fork-flying-through-the-air story was the least bit captivating?) "I'm amazed that cake didn't fly everywhere. You are very talented!" he said graciously.

"Well, see, that's the thing," I mumbled as I gestured down at his coat. His eyes followed my gaze and...

He laughed. Heartily. "Well, at least you're honest," he exclaimed. "You could have just kept quiet about it an later on, if I even noticed it, I would have thought that *I* did it."

Like I said, you can't buy that kind of class.