Amidst an otherwise dreary evening of San Francisco rain in January, I found myself at the opening night of the San Francisco ballet. Let me clarify, I wasn't at the actual ballet performance, I was at the after party -- looking at the decor. City Hall, where the party took place, is one of the possible venues that The Macy's Parade & Entertainment Group is looking at for the after party of the SF Passport Presents Glamorama fashion show. Macy's Inc., being my current employer, is why I was invited to the party.
The decor was stunning. The food: horrible. Having previously worked for McCall's (the catering company that put on the event) I was embarrassed that upon eating the sushi I contemplated what I would do if I got nauseous due to food poisoning. What's more, on more than one occasion I vogued for McCall's to replace Taste Catering as the Passport catering company – clearly my opinions were out of post-college pubescent loyalty to a good paying employer.
To the defense of the catering world, it was 10pm and McCall's did put on a sit down dinner prior to the ballet performance. Therefore, food wasn't a priority at 10pm; alcohol was -- and McCall's effectively got the room intoxicated. After all, I did spend most of my catering days as a bartender for McCall's and it was an enjoyable work experience.
Aside from the food and decor of the event, the people in attendance: swanky. The dresses were over the top and Waspy alcoholic men were at every corner. My amazing date and coworker, Jen Lu, was quick to the dance floor where dancing in an overly decorated City Hall corner couldn't be more fun.
Consistent with my mission at any major event, I met a boy. I've always thought of high-end events as a filtering mechanism for the rif raf often found at douchebag bars. I went to the party to enjoy myself while expanding my knowledge of acceptable event decor schemes -- especially given today's grueling budget conscious event environment. The 29 year old boy, "Matthew", was an exciting addition to the evening -- let's hope something becomes of the phone numbers that were exchanged. Even then, I'm happy to say that I'm more optimistic of San Francisco's gay scene since having met a beautiful boy at the ballet opening night party. For those of you still getting to know me, realty is clouded as I attempt to live a hopeless romantic fairy tale called event planning.
Until next time: www.twitter.com/dsisson
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