My Socio-Economical Desires (or lack there of) Have Been Compromised

I went, I saw, I had the time of my life. Dammit.

Friday morning I stepped out of the 6 passenger plane that took me to the Mainland, only to be met by my driver (what???) who brought me to the 5 star hotel that I would be staying at for the night.

There I met the President of Nikki Beach, and my boss who flew in from Miami, the Director of Marketing of Nikki Beach. Strangely, I didn't feel out of my league and managed to jump into a few conversations here in there about the business.

Later my boss told me to pick from the four dresses her bought for me and off we went to the ultra exclusive party.

When we got there the pool that led up to the club was lit up with candles. Everything was draped in white linen, the couches were white , the candles were white, everyone was dressed in white, it was elegant, sexy, and absolutely fabulous. Our team gave a presentation about Nikki Beach to a room full of the richest people in North and Central America who are all anxiously awaiting it's opening in 2010. By the end of the night, we managed to sell almost every single one of the condos that were available. The press ate everything up, taking pictures left and right (I managed to sneak into a few of them too).
Here's how you know that you are at a glamorous party: there were models hired to walk around and make the party look good.

I will break for a little FYI now and let everyone know that twice I was asked if I was Jennifer Aniston (I'm assuming they mean Jennifer Aniston in her fat, not sure what to do with her hair, early Friends stage), both times I politely pointed out my name tag which in fact did not read Jennifer, but Courtney, in pretty bold letters might I add.

And of course in true Courtney fashion, I couldn't let the most elegant night of my life pass by without getting into a fight with a rich snob.

His name was Larry and he was every bit as annoying as his name. He had a lot of money and of course an even bigger sense of entitlement. He decided that it was his duty to embarrass me periodically throughout the night by making sexual references about me loud enough for a fourth of the room to hear and hit on my incessantly. By the end of the night I ran out of cute quips and turned around and loud enough for half the room to get quiet told him that he was being completely disrespectful in what was supposed to be a professional setting and if he was going to continue to be rude I was going to ask him to leave (of course I had absolutely no jurisdiction to actually do that but it sounded good). He just stared at me blankly and his plastic wife broke out in laughter and said, "that's right honey, put him in his place!".

I apologized to my boss about my outburst but was told to never apologize for defending my integrity. Even the phrasing sounds elegant right?

Later that night, my boss told that I was going to have a wardrobe made for me so I can keep up with the elegant style of Nikki Beach when clients fly in to Roatan. I can honestly say that I don't exactly know what having a wardrobe made for me means, but it sounds like something I want to be a part of.


The next morning I awoke early to catch my flight back to my sweet baby girl (who was staying with her Ti Ti) and while waiting for my driver, decided to have breakfast by the pool and charge it to my room (along with two snickers bars, three natural juices and a water from the minibar; all together totaling over $100, oops). As I sat pondering the night and how much easier it was for me to fit in then I had hoped, I realized that I was starting to like the rich lifestyle. I loved the clothes, I loved the service, I loved the accessability to everything you could ever need. I even liked the automatic respect you got from everyone around you. And I was good at the conversation too, I could fit right in with any of them and no one seemed to know that I was a wolf in a sheep's really expensive dress.

The more I thought about it, the worse I felt. Was I losing myself in all of this? Was I changing? Was I becoming what I hate the most?

And just as I was losing hope in the strength of my values, I, without even realizing it, took a bag from my purse, emptied it's contents, and started filling it with all of the food that was going to be thrown out from the table to bring home for the street dogs.

I guess there are some values that all the money in the world can't touch.