This year, I was put in charge of rounding the waiters up and making sure everyone got plates of food. Not as easy as one might think, in spite of the fact that most of the waiters were seasoned veterans at this event. So that happened, and then the usual whirlwind of the plate-clearing and auction, counting the waiters' tip money to see who won, etc.
But this was no run-of-the-mill fundraiser. There were a few loose-cannon situations that, when brought together, caused what I have learned in nine months of Nevada Fitness Club training to save my ass.
Loose Cannon Situation Number One: The Band
We had trotted out the same basic format for easily the last several years of this fundraiser, because it essentially worked. However, with some fresh new ideas in our new board members, a round of brainstorming was set off in one of our meetings that led to the booking of a band, Sober as a Judge, for this year's event.
These guys? Seriously pretty awesome. Do yourself a favor and look them up. They blew the roof off of that place. Kick-ass, for real. But, more importantly to this story, they started the ball of this whole thing rolling.
Loose Cannon Situation Number Two: Childhood friend Misty Caldwell
Misty had not been to one of these events before, but was there repping the amazing woman her mother had been before stupid cancer took her from us way, way too soon. Misty is no stranger to shaking her ass on the dance floor, and as the night went on and the drinks flowed, and the music continued to be righteous, she got out there.
Loose Cannon Situation Number Three: The New Waiter
We had a maverick this year in new waiter Corey Johnson. Mr. Johnson came to win, and said as much to me when I introduced myself to him in the beginning-of-the-night waiter roundup. This guy? Crazy as hell, and super effective. He won, just as he promised he would, and then decided that it was time to celebrate on the dance floor.
These three ingredients mixed together led to a moment of horror when Misty pulled me out onto the dance floor shortly after the winner of the waiter tip-off was announced. Waiter champion Johnson was in a mood to celebrate, and his dancing was very high energy.
Cue the horror music, because I was stone. cold. sober.
I'm not much on dancing when I'm sober. When I've been drinking, oh my gosh, call Star Search, because I will pop and lock myself to champion status...in my mind.
I probably look more like this, though.
But let me say again, this time I was sober. And when I'm sober I pretty much know I suck. I had to think fast, and act faster.
Cue: Nevada Fitness Club.
My advantage was that everyone else had been drinking, and therefore didn't care at all. So I basically did a fit club routine. A little up-center-back-center, a little hop-hop-squat, a little up-and-over, a little one-two-three-four-five-six-seven-eight, and - BAM! - I'd incorporated T25, Combat Cardio, Insanity, AND Asylum.
It got me through without incident, anyway.
And I forgot about the whole thing, until a couple days later at work when our marketing director called me about one of my cases. Before she hung up, she said, "Oh, by the way...you're quite a dancer! I tried to video you, but it was too dark. You've got some moves!"
Later that day, her boss stopped in and said, "I hear you're quite a dancer!"
I demurred, of course, but on the inside, I turned to the hidden camera and said, "Thanks, Nevada Fitness Club!" *winky face*
My point is, you should come work out.
It totally saved my ass.
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