The private equity firm I worked for in New York had a shit ton of money. Like, they wiped their asses with money. That's how much money they had. The very first big event I ever went to with the company was a fundraiser at the Wall Street Cipriani. They paid Jerry Seinfeld 100k to be there that night for a fifteen minute set, or something crazy like that. Like I said...a FUCK TON of money.
I happened to have a dress for the occasion my friend in London had just given me and it was long, off the shoulder and a rich cranberry lace with a small train. I was so excited to wear it and it was truly my "first rodeo" as the guys in the office liked to say to anyone exhibiting amateur behavior (I worked with HUGE douche bags). Anyway, I showed up and within minutes was aware how out of my league I was. Paris and Nicky Hilton were using the bathroom at the same time as me, and at one point in the night and the red carpet was filled with the top models in the country from the likes of Irina Shayk to legend Crystal Renn; whom I met later in the evening and she was amazing. Apparently, Leonardo Dicaprio was also going to show up at some point in the night and my co-worker Megan was shitting her pants like crazy.
We all sat down to dinner at our assigned table number 22 and I sat across from the guy in my office who made me all hot and bothered every time I looked at him. He was a ginger and according to Megan, "Makes me sick! He's such a dog!" Then she'd be sweet as pie to his face. Apparently he was cheating on his wife all the time and even during work hours. Super New York style. Regardless, I loved our minor flirtations and nothing ever came of it. He only liked black girls and that seemed out of the cards for me, no matter how talented I was at makeup.
Everyone was on their best behavior and the one guy in the office who wasn't affected by "douche bag syndrome" was Andrew. He was a genuine guy and had the nicest family. His grandpa was even at the event and reminded me of old Hollywood movie stars like Clark Gable. He would follow in tow with those good looks and charm. After the set from Jerry Seinfeld and Chris Botti playing the trumpet throughout dinner, we all settled into a more casual time of visiting, and had been joking throughout the night about saying hello to Leo. He had been on his vape pipe the whole night at his center table and rocking a chill hat. Andrew agreed to go over and say hi with me. As I walked first over to his table, I noticed Andrew was no where to be seen and I was right behind Leo by myself. I'm not a shy person so I went ahead and said hello to Leo and showed him a picture on my phone of someone wearing a crazy fur coat and dreadlocks which I'd titled "Revenant Fashion". He had just won the Oscar for that role so he laughed politely then turned back around. Relatively un-memorable but still it was a nice little interaction.
As I made my way back to my co-workers at the table, I saw someone bee-lining it my way. All of a sudden my boss's crazy wife Inga was all up in my face with that awful Russian accent she possessed, berating me on how I could have been so stupid and what did I say to him!?!?! She went off for a minute, not even listening to the answers to her questions, then stormed off to go gossip about it. I'm lucky I didn't lose my job right then and there because she's that type of woman. She went through six personal assistants in during my year working for that company. What Inga wanted, Inga got. I was so caught off guard that I felt tears start to well up in my eyes. Then my co-worker Janet gave me the "pull it together" look and I left to go get a gin and tonic.
It's amazing how small I felt in that moment. I think that was the worse part about it all. Being excited to be at, probably, the most expensive, high profile event in my life because I somehow seemed to piss someone off in the first 2 hours of being there! Since we all knew Inga was crazy, which she still is, everyone of my co-workers told me to shrug it off, so I did. However, I always looked her in the eye whenever I saw her after that experience. She later tried to accuse me of sleeping with one of my co-workers (who was gay) to stir up drama - rich, lonely New York wives get bored - so I told her to basically fuck off, it was days before my two weeks were up at that job so I was already on my way out by my choice, not hers. After the Cipriani experience, I realized two things: 1) private equity was not for me 2) neither was Leo.