... was crash a wedding.
I really wanted to get dressed up in the one swanky dress I own, slip on some black, rhinestone strappy shoes, put on red lipstick, dab some of my favorite scent behind my ears, stroll into a lovely hotel, and crash a reception. Actually, it wouldn't have to be just a wedding. A retirement party, a swanky birthday party, whatever. A special occasion for someone, where not everyone would necessarily know everyone else, and everyone was having a good time. Where I could dance with a nicely dressed gentleman to a Tony Bennett song, twirling around the dance floor.
I'm sure there's a way to pull it off. And hey, it's October - it's a virtual guarantee that every hotel and reception hall in town is hosting a wedding on a weekend. This can't be hard...
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