Early last week I sent a group text to three of my girlfriends asking what they were up to on Thursday night. I didn’t get any responses. Obviously no one’s going to say they are available without any context! So I tried again. This time my text included the words “bachelor,” “auction” and “embassy.” Suddenly my phone lit up. Success.
My first stop was of course the open bar. Okay, I lied. First I ditched my coat. Then I went to the bar. I politely asked for a white wine but they were already out. Not a problem usually as I’ll take my vino red, white or rosé, but I was wearing a white dress that night. The image of me moving through the crowd in my white Michael Kors with red wine sloshing everywhere flashed before my eyes. But apparently I was thirsty because I brazenly told the bartender, “I’ll take a red.”
With drink in hand I finally took a moment to take in the venue. The space was well lit and actually had a great energy for a weekday night at an embassy. The perfect-for-mingling energy was partly due to DJ Tom from Prague.
As far as the crowd, it was best described by AbsolutelyDC:
Small tribes of woman…circling the men in uniforms.
Amidst the women – with heavy cleavage – and men – with chests baring medals, there were also some beauty queens. [Is that what you call women who compete in the pageant circuit these days?] It was fun to see their sashes peeking through the crowd. I was able to spot a Miss D.C., a Miss Maryland and, oddly, a Miss Wyoming. Is Wyoming the new Washington?
There were some delightful hors d’oeuvres being passed around as well. And by hors d’oeuvres I of course mean Georgetown Cupcakes; because where hordes of women convene there are cupcakes.
The event was fun but I somehow couldn’t help but want more. Maybe it’s because I was set up for failure from the beginning. You see, I’m a bit in love with 90s movies and when I first heard they were auctioning off bachelors all I could think of was Libby Parsons. Yes, that Libby Parsons of Double Jeopardy. I kept glancing around the room, trying to find Libby lurking in the shadows waiting for the perfect opportunity to make her presence known, looking glamorous in her stolen evening gown of course. I kept thinking how great it would be for bachelor Jonathan Devereaux to come to the stage and for Libby to step forward and boldly declare her $10,000 bid.
Sadly, there was no $10,000 bid at this bachelor’s auction; or a Jonathan Devereaux for that matter. I guess it’s all for the better. No one wants a man who faked his death, framed his wife, abducted his child and is now living a faux identity up for auction. Devereaux wasn’t there but the prize for most coveted bachelor was actor Scott Elrod who ended up being auctioned off to two women.
Afterwards, the crowd moved to an after party at L2 Lounge. The lounge – not a club or bar – is tucked away in Cady’s Alley off M Street in Georgetown. L2 is “members only” but there were no issues getting in since we were with other Officers and an Auction attendees. The décor was clean and modern with white leather sitting stools. It looked nice juxtaposed with the stone walls, but part of me wondered if you turned up all the house lights and got rid of the mood lighting if it would look more like $50-dollar Ikea pouffes all in a row than luxe lounge seating.
They were playing a mix of house and dance music but there really wasn’t room for dancing. The few people who were dancing looked a bit awkward. I don’t live by the “dance as if no one is watching” mantra. Sorry. My only complaint about L2 that night was the bathroom. Now, it wasn’t because men and women share the same restroom, I can deal with that. It’s that I was cornered in said bathroom by a man who couldn’t take a hint. Do you know how hard it is to try and get out of a conversation in a co-ed bathroom when people are too busy doing their business to help you out? Trust me, it’s hard.
By night’s end, the event raised funds and awareness for the G.I. Film Festival, taking place in May, and a dozen or so women had lined up dates with eligible military bachelors. All I had lined up was a male suitor trying to spit game in the bathroom. Maybe I should have raised my paddle at the auction? Lesson learned, my friends. Lesson learned.