The Masquerade Ball

I got an e-blast from the Junior League of Boston this week, announcing some details of the February 2, 2013 “Service in the City” Charity Ball.  The 2013 event will be a “masquerade ball.”

I must have read the blast with only one eye because I was thinking “costume ball” and dressing up like Elly Mae Clampett.  What fun it would be to wear my farm girl boots to a charity ball!  Maybe I would even bring a real farmer to the ball with me.  Wait, I would host a whole table of farmers!  Yee Haw!

Thinking happily about such things was a good distraction and I sent one of my Junior League friends a text about my Elly Mae Clampett scheme.

I was shocked into reality when my telephone rang.  It was a matter of “business,” the details of which are not important.  I pushed Elly Mae Clampett into the back of my mind and pulled out my Jane Hathaway personae.

The conversation twisted and turned; sometimes, to remain “in character” when talking business, I have a tendency to speak a little too factually.  I’m not trying to be a jerk.  I’m just trying to steer clear of the emotional ditches of a conversation.  Don’t get me wrong, I am always ready to listen to other people’s problems.  I certainly don’t mind when people cry to me about the struggles of life.

This particular business matter was not going well in spite of the facts and figures I presented.  Sadly, I was called a liar.

This accusation broke my heart and I could feel a little tear in the corner of my eye.  That little tear slipped out and it was difficult to remain business-like.

For me, lying is uncomfortable.  I try not to lie and when I do, it shows on my face.  One of my bosses at my previous Big Corporation Up The Road even told me during a staff meeting that I needed to get better at masking my thoughts.

“I can practically see your thoughts written on your forehead,” she said.  “You’ll need to work on that.”

There is no one alive on this planet over the age of one who has never told a lie, including me.  Some people lie all the time.  Some people lie occasionally.  Some people spin the truth into a lie.  I like to tell the truth and it shows on my face.

I managed to steer the conversational car away from the rocky cliff and after another 40 minutes of listening and explaining things, it all worked out.  Like Jane Hathaway, I neatly hung up the phone and put down my pencil.  Then, I took a deep breath and burst into tears.

My other phone buzzed and through my tears, I could see a text from my Junior League friend.

“It’s a masquerade ball, not a costume ball.”

I looked back at the e-blast and could see my friend was telling me the truth.

I’m not sure my farmer friends are going to go for the masquerade ball, especially if they can’t wear their BLEEP-kickers.  As Uncle Bob would say, “we’ll see.”

What masks are you wearing today?

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1 Response to The Masquerade Ball

  1. SK says:

    Oh bean! I am so sorry, I hate when I have those moments too. The weekend will bring better things! : )

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