Each year I am invited to a holiday party at a large mansion in the center of town. This year, FatGirl was my plus one. Prior to heading to the party we had a little maple whiskey and red wine at my house – baby, it’s cold outside and, more importantly, this party was dry.
We arrived to find someone who confused FatGirl for someone else, “I thought you were Joe. I was going to tell you that you lost weight.” This confusion totally made FatGirl’s/Skinny Joe’s night and may have been the only reason he was willing to stay with me as long as he did. After waiting in line for photos with the hosts we made our way upstairs to the dollar sandwiches, chocolate fountains and holiday punch (note to self: next year, pack a flask).
I hobnobbed with a few of the guests while FatGirl smiled, giggled often, and observed. Approximately 30 minutes after arriving, we decided to head back to my house for wine.
“Wow! That was so white! Besides the black lady, I think I was the only brown person there. I thought for sure guests were going to start handing me their plates to wash. They probably would have if they weren’t paper!” FatGirl exclaimed once we were out of the mansion and beyond security. “Seriously, so stuffy and so white!!” he said and giggled. “Now you know what it is like for me to be a white girl,” I replied. “I’m so sorry,” he said. With that, we drove to my house where a red/merlot Christmas was awaiting us.