In case you ever have to decide whether or not to invite me out in public? For the love of all that is good, holy, and sweetened naturally, DON'T. I am bad, bad news.
Six years ago, I had to attend this big ballet gala. Very, VERY heavy. I told my staff exactly where I was going: "I have to go to the ballet so don't call me between 7 and 10 pm."
And, silly me, thinking that the WARNING was strong enough, went to the ballet without turning off my phone.
During the most passionate pas de deux I have ever seen, my purse went BRIING!! BRIIIIING! BRIIIIIIIIIIIIING! I dove on top of my purse, but the damage was done. Entire rows of ballet afficianados whipped around in their seats to make sure I was aware that I had broken the ONLY rule of live theatre.
I was the Official Ballet Loser of 2003.
It is six years later, it is 2009. I have changed careers and no longer have thirty staff members who want to reach me 24 - 7. Surely NOW it's safe to go to the ballet, right?
Did I mention we have this pedometer challenge at work? We record our steps and I am passionate about it. Only problem is that I wore a dress to the ballet, and so had no real waist band to which I could attach the pedometer, so I attached it to my nylons under the dress.
While I was making nice-nice with other ballet goers, it came off my nylons. And plopped to the floor from under my dress. I hissed to my friend Ron, "Pick it up, PICK IT UP."
This poor man, stooping on to the theatre floor, to retrieve some object that ten other people HEARD fall out of my dress.....
Really, we'll all be much happier if you don't let me outside. And ESPECIALLY don't let me go to the ballet.