Dinner Party

Here's the thing, I speak and write the Queens English fluently, I have a few degrees on hand, tend to dress respectably (on occasion), take interest in the fine arts, history and it's because of these things, people often mistake me for cultured. (I know right.......pfft.)  

In all honesty, my calling is closer to that of wajang, bacchanalist even, clearly not fit for high society. I'm the guy on stage in a fete, doing things we'd rather not speak of, the cacahole shouting "WOI" when a Benjai comes on. 

So imagine my discomfort when asked to attend a formal dinner party. The invite said "swanky, candle-lit affair," no liquor of any kind.....wine only, dress code: dinner-wear, pants/slacks, button downs and loafers. Menu items to include light hor d'oeuvres, exotic cheeses (gouda, etc), fruit plates, gourmet chips with salmon-flavoured cream cheese, oven-roasted herbed salmon with spanish rice, hand-made jalapeno sliders on artisan bread with chipotle mayo.......what, no pelau? 

Sure we had fun, sort of in the way senna could be "fun." But in all honestly, I really started enjoying myself when someone slipped the Grey Goose from a pants leg then threw on some Private Ryan. 

I've come to realize that I have no place in polite, civilized society, but I clearly don't fit into the hood crowd either. Go figure. I think I'll stick to the "grown and sexy" vibe going forward though, it's business casual meets dress to impress, polite company meets youthful exuberance, but most importantly, people not afraid to get a little sweaty. 

Peace