Cool, Calm & Contentious - Merrill Markoe [28]
And then I turned and went off to talk to someone else.
In my head, I received a big round of applause.
One last pearl of wisdom: If, after reading this, you are haunted by the fear that it might be you I am talking about, you are definitely not a narcissist. Narcissists never identify with anything that could diminish their opinion of themselves. On the other hand, if you don’t recognize anything of yourself in any of the things I have mentioned, you might want to consider a career in show business or politics.
* A few years ago I was asked to write about “a valuable life lesson.” This layman’s explanation of narcissism was the result. Upon publication, I got so many responses from people who, like myself, had been previously puzzled, saying, “Thanks. I was wondering what that was!” that I have included it here, in the name of being helpful.
Saturday Night with Hieronymus Bosch
ATTENDING SATURDAY NIGHT’S MUCH-ADVERTISED “FETISH Ball” at the Hollywood Athletic Club seemed like the perfect idea for a story. The laughs will come fast and furious when fish out of water meets Fetish Ball, I said to myself. And I was right. Quickasthis I sold the idea to our big alternative weekly.
That made me happy, but I was even happier after a chef I knew told me that he attended the Fetish Ball every year and was really looking forward to it. That helped to humanize the event for me—to remind me that beneath the Félicien Rops imagery would beat the hearts of actual people, with internal organs and nervous systems and everything. I felt happier still after a large group of my friends called to say that they would love to tag along. I pictured all of us in funny outfits, talking to unusual people. And, failing that, good-natured, fun-seeking, boring people who dressed up weird. Not only would a good time be had by all, but now I was no longer worried about being pulled into a dark alley at stiletto point by Jack the Foot Worshipper.
My positive outlook continued undiminished for the rest of the week … right up until the Friday afternoon before the ball, when every last one of my so-called friends called to chicken out.
Apparently I would be going alone.
Okay, I said to myself, let’s take this one step at a time. No reason to panic. It’s just another job covering a party in Hollywood, for crying out loud. But still, by any measure, it seemed untoward: a woman attending a fetish ball by herself? What in God’s name was I supposed to wear?
It was one thing to construct an odd, fetishy Halloweeny kind of outfit to show off at a party full of silly, ironic friends. It was quite another to get dressed up all bizarre and sexy, leave the house unescorted, drive through Hollywood in daylight, and then exit my parked car alone, still wearing the exotic getup. Further complicating things was the fact that my goal for the evening was neither to find dates nor to acquire any new deviant people in the friendship category. I did not want a buckle-and-zipper-laden guy in a big rubber dick suit wearing a ball gag to follow me out to my car when I left.
No, my plan, or what I laughingly thought of as one, was to be a fly on a cleanish expanse of wall so I could write some kind of hilarious essay while maintaining a safe distance. I even thought briefly about renting an actual fly costume but became concerned that there might be a fetish involving walls and flies.
So I went back to examine the original invitation. Of the choices it offered in the dress-code category—Leather, Vinyl, Fetish Glam, Uniform, Formal, Gothic, Drag, Storybook/Fairy Tale—Storybook/Fairy Tale seemed to offer the most possibilities. What would it mean to the room at large if I went as a character from A Charlie Brown Christmas? I wondered. Wasn’t that a storybook by some definition? How would a nice Metro bus driver’s uniform strike the other attendees? Would it give the appearance of a uniform fetish while also sending a subtle message that dangerous strangers should stay away? Or would I be busy all night long telling fetishists that no, I didn’t have change for