It was to be the most exciting evening of my life.
A gala dinner and night in a five star hotel in London all expenses paid, a reward for all my hard work.
Time spent in the spa at the hotel, then the full beauty treatments. Hair, nails all perfect. My outfit the most expensive I’d ever bought.
Walking into the ballroom I noticed people smiling, as I went past feeling good. A waitress sidled up to me, ”Madame you have your dress tucked in your underwear.”

Mortified doesn’t cover it, adjusting my dress as I slide into my seat. Thankfully, the people on my table were really nice and I settled down to enjoy my evening.
The only minor mishap was when my hair piece got caught in a lady’s bracelet, thankfully I was able to extricate it without too much damage, apology accepted.
The meal was exquisite, the dancing commenced, enjoying watching the fun. An elderly gentleman approached asking me to take a turn on the dance floor. Why not, can’t get into any trouble there. My mistake. He started swinging me round, unfortunately his hand slipped, ending up with me flying across the floor, legs akimbo like a bowling ball looking for skittles, people jumping out of the way as I slid passed by. All I could think was thank goodness I had my big knickers on to hide my modesty.
People crowded round to assist me back to my seat. Shakily I sat down vowing to not get up again. The rest of the evening is a blank aided by several bottles of wine from the said gentleman.
Waking the following morning there I was fully clothed, mouth like sandpaper and makeup smeared across my face and pillow. A shower, painkillers, and several bottles of water later I felt able to face the world .
Walking into the dining room for breakfast, people turned and gave me a round of applause. Red faced I forced myself to sit at a table tucked in the corner, everyone smiling in my direction.
On the train home I am still wondering why or perhaps I’m better off not knowing. It was the most exciting evening BUT…..

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