police car outside, called by ourselves, doorman tipped to be at the entrance until everybody leaves etc.
The first guests arrive in time, they are not Mexicans, what did you think?
Me, near the door, busy with the flowers I got, somebody rings, I open, the posh lady that comes in ignores me (yes, normally the muchacha opens the door, why a muchacha will wear an expensive black dress, jewels and high heels i don't know) goes right where the people are, talks with them for some minutes, I imagine she is related to one of them, she then turns around and leaves. I don't remember who opened her door, the muchacha inside me didn't do it.
She was going at the Alliance francaise, one block away, and she ended near Allianz Fondika. I blame the taxi driver. And the policemen. And the doorman. Come one, how could she pass all those filters just because she was elegant? Nobody cared where she was going to!
I intend to become a party breaker. And to go to all kind of posh dinners, just because I will dress the way I will dress.
PS: it would have been so cool if the lady realised she wasn't at the right party only after midnight!
2 comments:
Brilliant story, and quite valuable inspiration. This could be become your social signature, crashing parties in style ;)
I kept in mind Silvia's blog about crashing parties in Bucharest, wasn't that cool?
But I need a partner to do that and I am afraid I don't have such an iresponsible company:))
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