GW Inaugural Ball
I hope I don’t disappoint my loyal readers by admitting that, yes, I attended the GW Inaugural Ball. I even have my tile/coaster party favor to prove it. Politics aside, I decided why not take up my parents’ offer to have them buy my ticket and get drunk.
The ball began at 8 p.m., so my pre-gaming began at the wee hour of 6 p.m. Much to my chagrin, I found out that the open bar my parents had used to lure me to the ball was a lie. But I’m not sure why I believed that a university-sponsored party would include alcohol in the $75 price tag. After a magnum of wine and some primping, my date and I met up with a group of friends and we set out for a night of gallivanting.
I met up with my friend’s family in the foyer of the Omni Shoreham Hotel, which proved to be quite nice. Luckily I was invited to sit at her table, because once I got inside, it immediately became clear that there were no open chairs or tables at which to eat or rest my feet (which were crammed in overpriced, three-inch stilettos). The table served as a prime girls-in-ridiculous-and/or-giant-ball-gowns watching spot.
Next, I lined up like cattle with the rest of the crowd at the buffet table. But once I got closer to see that it was a make-your-own-fajita section, I left my date scooping sour cream with a ladle to check out the other food options. The giant chunk of meat buffet didn’t sound too appealing either, so I ended up returning to the table with food similar to what I eat everyday at SizzEx: cheese, crackers and some fried shrimp, for which I had to stalk a catering guy.
Obviously eating didn’t take long and the musical entertainment, which I had originally mistaken for karaoke, signaled drinking time. I headed over to the cash bar. There was a really efficient system set up there. First, you waited in a 15-minute line to buy $7.50 drink tickets. Then, you waited in a 10-minute line to order a drink. And then, you downed the ice-laden, heavy-on-the-soda drink. Repeat.
After downing one drink, I decided to check out some of the other three rooms. The live band room played decent music, was more spacious and had shorter lines. In the DJ room, however, something about grinding in formal wear brought back bad memories of high school prom. And I never was able to find the swing room.
Perhaps as someone who has been to many balls (it comes with the whole Southern upbringing), I came to my first ball in D.C. with high expectations. I had fun with my friends and I’m a sucker for dressing up once in a while, but I think I could have done that without spending so much on drinks. But then again, I could just be bitter because I missed the W impersonator.