The Wish Book

I went to a ladies' party the other evening; one of those events where the real purpose is to sell something but everyone knows in advance and doesn't care because they want to get together anyway.   This one was at the home of a good friend and featured silver jewelry.  I broke two rules during the party because of something magical-sounding, the Wish Book.

There were very nice women there and I got to spend a little time networking and visited briefly. I bought a necklace to give as a gift and stuck to my budget. 

During the social time, with my glass of wine in hand and interesting women gathered around the table viewing the merchandise, I spoke out of turn while the jewelry distributor was discussing her wares.

It all started because she mentioned that she has a "Wish Book" where customers can record their wish items are and she would make sure you received what you wished for.  I felt the magic and enthusiastically interrupted her, waving my hand like an excited schoolgirl and practically shouting, "that is so cool.  You actually FIND someone to buy the things we want?"  

Of course her implication was that we all had husbands who could be contacted and talked into giving us the gift items.  Having no husband, I was using my imagination and thinking how really fun that would be to have a fairy godmother who could make wishes, albeit it for moderately priced silver jewelry, come true.  Broken rule #1 - Do not interrupt or add humor or new ideas to the discussion.

She looked at me as if I had just stood on the dining room table and disrobed.  But she was professional and politely explained that husbands and "even girlfriends" were the potential givers, not anonymous donors.  

Not one to leave loose ends, I finished my point, and with that pulled a double whammy, further elaborating on my creative ideas but saying the no-no words of all "parties" of this ilk. 

"You could make a LOT of money if you found the donors, too," I said.  "It would be sort of like matchmaking but with gifts.  Really, you should think about offering that service.  Women would sign up and might pay a lot."  I heard her sucking in air in disbelief as soon as I said, "make a lot of money".  Broken rule #2 - do not talk about the real reason you are there.

WIth that, I had done the unthinkable.  I actually acknowledged that this was about money and she was there, not for the socializing, but because she makes a profit from the sales.  We all knew that, but it is something that you keep silent about in this party business.  The rule is that you play along and come for the fun and pleasantries and networking, knowing that you are making money for someone.

It should be just fine to acknowledge the true purpose of something; until that point I hadn't really comprehended that we were masking it.   It's all about pretending - wish books without the magic of really making a wish come true, and acknowledging the true reason behind a party.  

What I thought was light and funny conversation was tantamount to attaching a cement block to myself and jumping into the river, or perhaps more realistically, opening the wish book and revealing what was really inside the covers.  

I should have been a better reader of facial expressions and guffawing noises. Not only did I not read well, but I chose to abandon all sense of decorum and press the issue, blowing it by mentioning money.   We were supposed to focus simply on the jewelry and pretend it was all for fun.  

For those few uncomfortable minutes, I was not the life of the party but the ink spot on the carpet, the elephant in pajamas, the tarnish on the silver jewelry.  Even so, I was glad I went to the "party".

Finding donors for those who are in need of wish list funding still sounds like a great business to me. My wish list is filled with things like finding a job, taking a fabulous trip, adding to my retirement fund, easing the suffering of the Haitian earthquake victims, and keeping my children safe from harm.  Imagine the party to celebrate any one of those wishes coming true!