We are into the holiday season, and that means we are into event season. Sure, they happen year round, partiuclarly in the daquiri-drenched subtropical social paradise that is South Florida. But during the two months and change between the spooky season and New Year’s, we sandwich in a lot of partying for community and good causes, even by our standards.
In this issue we’ve got photos from the Mayor’s Gala, Cosmos for a Cure, Sabor Fest and Trick or Treat at Main Street. We’ve also got previews of the Main Street Festival of Lights and the Miami Lakes Food and Wine Festival.
It’s a fun season, but it can also be stressful. Which is why, as an act of service journalism, I present to you some handy tips for surviving the holiday party season.
Have a plan for the names you don’t remember.
Anybody who attends a party with me knows the rule: If I meet somebody and don’t introduce you, I have no idea what their name is. Your job is to wait a few moments, then say “Erik, you’re so bad at this” and introduce yourself. I will then commit to remembering the person’s name, a commitment at which I will comprehensively fail.
Have an anecdote.
Just the one. Not too long, not too memorable, with a clearly defined ending that makes it clear this interaction is over.
You bought gas and boy is it expensive now. You went to Tampa and you know what? You’ve never liked Tampa. You recently read something interesting about voles, and here it is.
The trick is to make it polite enough to avoid faux pas, dull enough to extricate yourself.
Always have a small plate of food and pretend like you’re finishing eating something.
This gets you out of one of the most potentially awkward and stressful elements of the work or charity function, the cheek kiss.
The professional event cheek kiss is a nightmare for the awkward and spatially unaware. Lean in too little and you look like some weirdo kissing the air 12 inches away from someone’s head. Lean in too much or too quickly and you run the risk of doing what I did when I worked for a yachting industry magazine and, at a fancy event in Monaco, planted a light but unexpected headbutt on the cheek of a French woman who sells yachts.
All of that could have been avoided if I’d just given her the international sign for “It is nice to see you but alas, I have some mini eggroll in my mouth still.”
And there you go, a recipe for holiday party success. Speaking of which, if I should run into you at one, let me just say that it’s great to see you again. Of course I remember your name. Actually, your pendant reminds me of a vole, and oddly enough...