Live Auction.

Last night was the epic conclusion of OPERATION: AUCTION GALA, in which I drank one vodka lemonade after working all day and eating nothing but a cupcake and a green rice krispie treat, and then proceeded to lose my bag (containing my glasses, credit cards, ID, and cell phone – essentially every expensive and important thing I own) in the bathroom at a super upscale LA hotel.  Luckily for me, said hotel was so fancy that the person who found it had no interest in my Target-brand clutch (or the tube of chapstick and outdated iPhone 4 inside it) and turned it in to security, who dispatched someone to drive it over to me (from where???) and then apologize to me for the incident.  The incident in which I left the bag in a bathroom stall and forgot about it for 40 minutes.

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Grimacing Baby thinks I’m immature.

If attending an event where people assume you have money affords you the privilege of an apology for a huge inconvenience you caused, I can’t imagine what actually having money does.  Perhaps it is this mentality that encourages people in Bentleys to turn their cars against the flow of traffic and then wave their arms maniacally and shout obscenities at the oncoming cars.  Because, I mean, how dare those assholes get in Mr. Bentley’s way.  Don’t they know who he is???  He is a man who drives a Bentley, dammit!

In this case, I was a girl in $30 heels, wearing $16 perfume, masquerading as a member of the Los Angeles elite.  If that garners the polite, swift and courteous management of all my daily idiot mistakes, I could get used to it.  For example, yesterday morning, I almost backed into my husband’s car because I didn’t realize, even after walking outside, getting into my car and turning it on, that he was parked behind me in the driveway.  The other day at work, in attempting to put the lid on a giant barrel of pretzels, I dropped the whole thing on the ground, scattering Bavarian snacks all over the place.  This morning, I walked into a low table while getting something to drink and then proceeded to knock over the glass of water with my elbow.

You see, my problem isn’t that I’m a long-limbed, bumbling klutz – it’s that I’m being expected to do things.

Someone get on that.

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This is a pretty good graphic representation of how the night progressed. In the “Before” photo, I am standing upright and have the insight to be slightly uncomfortable in my dress. Also, I have possession of my phone. In the “After” photo, I am literally hanging onto the front of my coworker’s shoulder and probably have no idea that my bag is missing.  Also, THE EYES.

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6 thoughts on “Live Auction.

  1. Lol. They probably questioned the help at the hotel briefly to see if the bag belonged to them first and felt bad for wasting that time when you didn’t have your bag.

    My wife left hers (she used to do it often until she figured out that she has a husband now so she doesn’t pay for anything) hanging from her chair at a trivia night event. We went to a bar after the trivia and that’s where she realized she forgot it. We were both pretty schnockered.

    The trivia event was hosted by the Optimist’s Club. She was sooo worried, but we couldn’t go back and get it because it’d be closed up that late at night. Anyway, when we got home at 1:30am, the purse was hanging on the door knob between the screen door and main door with a note from the Optimists that they were sorry they didn’t catch us before we left!

    Those people rock!

    • That is an excellent story. I love hearing that there are still nice people in the world. Last night, I pretty much assumed my bag was gone forever, but was enjoying myself too much to let the reality of that sink in. I was shocked when the guy at the front desk called security and told me they’d found it and had it waiting for me a short “seven minute” golf cart ride away.

      Also, I am totally aware that I should be forcing my husband to pay for everything. I had my bag with me mostly because I figured I’d need my ID to get drinks – I tend to look 16.

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