Friday, December 02, 2005

It is better when you don't eat the cheese

What is it about a single guy and a single girl heading to a party together - it seems to serve as society's magnet for random events.

In what is quickly becoming a newfound hobby of mine, attending industry launch/Xmas parties that I have been invited to as a 'handbag' type, this week, I was fortunate enough to head to a "White Xmas Party" for all of these Media types.

The party was held at the Beauchamp Hotel in Darlinghurst, a bar that only recently re-opened, and it is a pretty suave venue.

Other than my friend, I did not know a soul, and I must say it showed on arrival, imagine me, almost speechless. Being at a white party, I donned a white polo, white headband, white wristbands, cream pants (had to cheat somewhere) and white loafers (thanks Spotty, we all know they are big shoes to fill).....

Walking in, all I had in my mind was the constant reminder from other people that not being properly kitted out, I would be ignored by everyone else, but judging on my previous post, it was an outcome that I was more than prepared for. So naturally, the first port of call was a typical Eastern Suburbs boy's Vodka Lime & Soda at the bar (too many hairy experiences on the Scotch & Dry).

I ended up feeling quite alone for the next half an hour or so whilst my friend was mingling with industry, so I was walking around this place being confronted by 70 year-old men wearing polar bear suits, a couple of guys having a “I look more like Maria Sharapova more than you do” competition and a whole bunch of headband/wristband/white-hat Pretenders, of which I was clearly one of (there was a guy in white bike shorts though, that took balls).

Note - cool bar and scary man in polar bear suit...


Eventually, we settled down and started drinking, my friend, the cheap drunk that she is (no offence) started opening up conversation with others based on the pungent Thai fish cakes that were being carted round on Noveau-Western, stale white trays.

On top of that, there was a cheese platter on every available surface. Now this is a nice proposition for most, but people who know me well have a pretty good idea what cheese does to me, so instead of eating it, I admired it from a distance (for once).

The next part of the evening became a little hazy for me, Vodka settling in my memories are based on a business contact that my friend had made, who had decided he was more interested in banking for the night instead of his usual media job, much to the (initial) shock of my friend, but I saw it happening from a great distance, almost tempted to whip out the mobile and place the “Evacuation Call” through to my flat-mate.

Other events of the evening involve getting involved in numerous photos with wondrous fiends and a really, really, really good night, with lots of drinking, talking and random. So what was the secret of the evening? –

Simple, admire the cheese, don’t eat it.

I am sorry Dairy Farmers, but I shall consume white no longer, just wear it.

My only loss for the evening was a wrist-band that was dear to me, if anyone finds it, please return it…