I recently attended a soirée. That’s right I attended a soirée.
Before writing this blog post, I was not even sure how to spell soirée. One ‘e’ or two ‘e’s at the end?
Did it have one of those little accent dashes (by the way, I just looked it up and the dash is called The accent aigu ´ (acute accent).
For your information, soirée is a French word and according to the merriam-webster dictionary, it means a party or reception held in the evening.
I don’t know about you but what soirée means to me is fancy.
How did I end up at this fancy party, I mean soirée, you may be wondering? I just wanted to drink. No, really.
J.O.: I am going to a scotch tasting.
L.B. That’s cool.
J.O. Yeah, I’m one of the sponsors. It’s a fundraiser.
L.B. Nice of you.
J.O. Thank you. Do you and S (Ms. MMK) want to come along?
L.B. Let me get back to you.
Three days later the plans were made. I like scotch, and Ms. MMK would stay with the children. By the way, note there was no mention of the word soirée.
I have been to scotch tastings before. They are quite pleasant. Yes, thank you I would like to try that and that and that and that. It’s like going to smorgasbord with only one thing on the menu: Scotch.
My wife got home. Tag, you’re it. And I left.
When I finally arrived, 35 minutes after J.O. told me the event was to begin, he greeted me, and we strolled onto the grounds where the event was being held. The grounds and the house were spectacular. No need for kids to double up in that house.
I was surprised.
L.B. I thought the event began at 7:00.
J.O. It did, sort of. Actually, we just finished setting up and people are still coming.
L.B. Looks pretty fancy.
J.O. Yeah, I know. It’s a soirée.
L.B. Oh a soirée. Very fancy.
I was expecting a bunch of guys hanging out at someone’s house sipping scotch. Instead, there were tables and chairs, a band, a bar, a tent, wait staff, and food all set out on a perfectly manicured lawn.
J.O. and I took a seat. He was drinking a mojito, and I was sipping water. We started talking about mutual friends who I was hoping to see at the event.
L.B. So is RL coming?
J.O. He said he wasn’t wearing a tie.
L.B. A tie? I’m not even wearing socks or shoes. (I looked down at my feet). I’m wearing sandals, I haven’t shaved today, and I’m wearing the same jeans that I wore yesterday.
We both laughed. But I felt self-conscious. I looked around and saw people dressed in various degrees of fanciness. However, I also saw people in shorts. Shooooooh, I wasn’t the only one who was dressed casually. Now, that would be embarrassing.
Two hours later I was driving home, “I don’t know how many other people were in jeans RL, but I was definitely not the only one.”
One of my mother’s pieces of wisdom ran through my head: Wherever you go, there will always be people more dressed than you and people less dressed than you.
So, jeans, half-beards, and sandals – check. I’m ready to soirée.