#76 Party Crasher - Who Me?

Lots of news and drama surrounding the Salahis. What a couple!! Do you think crashing parties is his thing or her's? From watching the news, it appears that Michaele is the one to stop, yank Tareq's arm, and vogue pose for the cameras. I saw her do this twice, and yet, she could have just jumped onto his wagon for the ride and got hooked. Who's ever thing this is though, it seems Tareq may be the brains of this operation. During the news clips, more times than not, his entrance is made in a straight line with head down. He seems to know that no photos should be taken until one is safely through the doors, drink in hand, laughing with the host and hostess. At this point, either way, they're both screwed.

Interestingly, I have something in common with these two Reality-TV-Star-Wanna Bees. I like to party. Well, I still like A party, but I wouldn't call myself a party girl... anymore. However, in my college and grad school days, I loved to go to parties. I also loved getting a group together to go out dancing.

More important than having my fake driver's license allowing me entrance to all drinking establishements, I had something even better. Something that a lot of other party hoppers-crashers didn't have. I had my finger on the pulse of Washington DC. Not literally, but pretty close. Back in the 80s [not sure if they still do this today] whenever the president left the White House, a secret service agent would sit in the Emergency Room. Where did I work? In the Emergency Room. If we weren't crazy busy and we had a few minutes to sit, a chit chat with the agent du jour was always interesting. Now, don't go and start getting all mad at the agent, no major secrets were divulged, but as far as what was happening in the DC, Maryland and Virginia area in terms of parties and happenings, the agent was a great source of info.

Which brings me to what I really have in common with the Salahis. I had no problem crashing parties. Of course, looking back from where I sit now, I'm appalled at my chutzpah, but back then, it was just kids being kids. Also, being in a city, surrounded by hotels, party halls, and clubs, parties were a dime a dozen. Unlike the Salahis though, my buds and I waited until the party was in full swing before smoothly moving our way in. We never stopped to get our photos taken. Actually, there was no way we wanted our photos taken... as we snuck in the back or side door.

We did this all in fun and meant no harm. I can't remember one time being found out or kicked out. It's like wearing fake jewelry. If you wear it with attitude, no one will be the wiser. And believe me, we had attitude. The only time I personally had a problem with our venue was when we snuck into a party where I was surrounded by gay men [it was for a calendar shoot]. I felt totally left out. No one asked me to dance and no one offered to buy me a drink. To make matters worse, these beautiful boys were all around me laughing and drinking and shirt-less, AND IGNORING ME.

Lesson learned: When you've been asked out by the secret service agent twice, and have said no to him on both occasions, it probably isn't a great idea to ask him where the best party in town is.

Quote of the Day: "Never be bullied into silence. Never allow yourself to be made a victim. Accept no one's definition of your life; define yourself." Harvey Fierstein