Cinderella goes to the Ball

The day of the party I had to work at Flavorpill until 5:30. I sat there nervously all day (not getting any work done) trying to listen to the conversations of my coworkers discussing their evening plans. So far, no one had mentioned going to the Yankees’ party. It’s not that interns are banned from these parties, but typically if you are attending them its to work the event. My boss left early for the day, so I took that as a sign that I was allowed to leave early as well. A girl needs time to get ready for the party! I texted my “plus one” (AKA my partner in crime Myra) telling her to meet me at my apartment so we could commence with the shenanigans. 

The feeling in my stomach was exactly the same one I always had when I was getting ready for prom. The butterflies and anticipation of how great the night could turn out and the nervousness of how bad it could end up build slowly. My annoying roommate was gone for the night so I also took this as a sign that I should take a dress out of her closet. After Myra and I decided we looked the part of successful marketing executives, or at least as good as it was going to get, we hopped into a cab and headed off to the meatpacking district where the party was being held. 

As we got out of the cab it didn’t even matter that I had just spent my entire food allowance for the week, I was more excited than a kid on Christmas morning. I confidently strode up to the girl at the front holding the guest list and told her that Amanda Haney (and guest) from Flavorpill were there. As soon as the words came out of my mouth I started to have a silent panic attack. What if they had figured it out? I was only an intern; what if they asked someone at my office who I was?   If they didn’t let me in, what was I going to do? At that moment all I could think about was the extreme embarrassment I would feel getting kicked out of there. Those few nerve-wracking seconds the guest list girl spent locating my name seemed to endlessly drag on with both fear and anticipation. 

Finally, she looked up at me and smiled. She pointed to the elevator and said “This way, the attendant will direct you. Enjoy yourselves ladies!” As the elevator doors closed in front of me and Myra, we couldn’t stop glancing at each other and smiling. We had made it!

The party was located on a beautiful glass enclosed rooftop with twinkly lights, plushy seating arrangements, an open bar, and waiters in coat and tie walking around with trays of appetizers and champagne. It was everything I imagined, but somehow so much better once I was actually there. This truly was the perfect example of how the other half lived. Beautiful people were milling about, along with a few very good looking baseball players that even someone as clueless about sports as I am recognized. 

Not only was the food fantastic and the champagne very expensive but the networking opportunities were fantastic. It seemed like a representative from every major publication was there! Everything about that night surpassed my wildest expectations. I happen to be a big fan of free stuff and the gift bags were fantastic! I may never go to another party like this for the rest of my life but that’ll be okay with me. I feel like I took full advantage of this opportunity and will have memories that I’ll never forget. My boss never found out either! And I may or may not have asked the model for the fragrance campaign for his number after one too many glasses of champagne that night... but there’s some things I’ll just never tell!

Centerpieces

My partner in crime and I

Fragrance Campaign

The model and I