The Awkward Things That Have Happened

   My father and stepmother are both management at a large, well-known business newspaper in New York City. My mother and stepfather are both tenured opera singers at a large, well-known opera house in New York City. As a child, I was predictably bouncing between two very different worlds with very different rules, inhabited by very different kinds of people. 

One night, my father had a dinner party. He had some bigwig newspaper and magazine people over. On this particular night, I had just gotten my very first ever bottle of disappearing  ink. I had been pranking people by spilling it all over them all day and I was pretty excited to continue this fun with the dinner guests.

I was having a cordial conversation with the Editor-in-Chief of a startup business magazine, when I sensed my opening. I quickly snatched my disappearing ink from my pocket and flung a few drops onto his expensive Armani suit jacket.

At first, he was startled. Then, he was angry.

“Don’t worry!” I said. “It’s disappearing ink! It will go away in a few minutes.”

So we waited. And it didn’t go away.

“Uh. Sorrry…” I said.

The “disappearing” ink was subsequently destroyed, another casualty in the bloody, bloody war against overpriced business casual apparel.