Seriously, people, I struggled with what to name this post, because I have never seen anything quite like what I saw last night. As I’ve mentioned numerous times before, when I moved to Phoenix I joined my sorority alum club because I figured it would be good networking for both of us, plus a way to meet some women friends.
Well, the outgoing president was having a party at her newly renovated house and since this was the first event that they’d had that I could bring the BF along to, I asked him to join me on my networking adventure. He was understandably skeptical, but I assured him that we could leave at any time if it turned out to be lame.
The party was in Paradise Valley, one of the ritziest sections of town – actually pretty much blocks from the place where we had our new member mixer in August, a place that wowed me because when I asked where the bathroom was, one of the women said, “well, there’s eight…” EIGHT BATHROOMS?!?!
So we’re driving to find this place and it’s a little gated community…from what we could see from the road, I assumed that these were little poser casitas in a nice neighborhood. Then we pulled in to talk to the guard and she’s like, “you’re here for the party? If you pull up about ten feet then the valets will take your car.”
A little surprised that there’s (free, though we of course gave a tip) valet for a houseparty, we walk inside, and…dudes. There are no words. This place was exquisite. It was all done in black and white, pristine, sparkly, and gorgeous. As I ironically pointed out to the BF , while there were “only” three bedrooms and an office, we are probably talking five or six thousand square feet…formal dining room, “casual” breakfast nook, catering kitchen in addition to the regular kitchen, huge backyard with pool, major landscaping, astroturf. And then there was the party.
Girls dressed in sparkly bunny leotards, complete with tails and ears.
Fucking mermaids in the pool.
Shirtless guys dancing with, and breathing, fire.
A Vegas-style DJ wearing a short yellow designer dress with a Mac and digital turntables.
Waiters and waitresses serving champagne, wine, and beer and circulating with appetizers of all kinds, including gruyere cheese puffs and tuna tartar.
And did I mention the huge, beautifully decorated house? Seriously, how does a single woman in her fifties purchase, gut, and completely renovate and redecorate a 2-3 MILLION dollar house, weigh probably 95 pounds, and dance the night away like this? And is this, please God that I don’t even believe in, my automatic future as a sorority alum? Well, except for the single part?
Not only were we completely floored by the house and by the party, but as it turned out I had met most of the women there at networking events before, so I was able to introduce the BF to some folks as well as walk up to complete strangers and chat them up admirably. After about two hours, our hostess asked for the dance music and everyone threw down on the patio.
When we finally left, I was saying goodbye to the last couple of women while the BF went to the restroom and tracked down our host…the women were telling me how much they liked the BF and asking when I would have a ring to show off. When I told the BF this on the way home, he was like, well, did you tell them we were looking at rings earlier today? (We had been at the mall and gone into a jewelry store to get his watch battery replaced and ended up perusing a little bit.) I was happy to say, of course I mentioned that!
After we got our car back from the valet (who gave us a box of gourmet Vosges chocolates and the interior decorator’s business card), we oh
shittedourselves all the way home to our tiny condo and some frozen pizza to supplement the sea of alcohol and appetizers.
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