I’m Sorry if My Stigmata Ruined Your Elegant White Party
In Retrospect I Should Have Declined the Invitation
I had a really great time tonight, all things considered. It’s been a while since I’ve been to such a nice dinner party, with such exquisite food (loved the Chilean sea bass!) and interesting people.
I’ve always heard of ‘white parties’, and am happy it wasn’t anything racial (you never know these days), but just a classy way for friends and acquaintances to gather while wearing elegant pure white outfits, clean, pressed, and ready to impress.
Fun fact — these parties were inspired by the ‘Dîner en Blanc’ soirees which began in Paris in the 1980s, and have proven so popular that folks all over the world still throw them.
I googled that just now as you were walking (forcing) me out to my car. I’m the type of guy who likes to spit out interesting factoids when things get a bit awkward.
I’m also the type of guy who really has to apologize if my chronic stigmata, which flares up from time to time, ruined your all-white affair shortly after I arrived. I agree, calling it anything but a bloodbath would be a tremendous understatement.
Are you sure I didn’t mention that without warning, bloody wounds and scars appear all over my body, which correspond to the crucifixion wounds of Jesus Christ?
Fair enough, I’ll take your word for it. But weren’t you at all a bit curious why some people call me Stiggy? Perhaps I should have been more direct about my powers.
I know right now they don’t seem like powers to you, since all your guests either passed out when blood started pouring out from my forehead, or were so freaked out when my bloody palms started soaking into your new linen tablecloth, that they ran screaming into the night.
In my defence, I didn’t expect you to have four porcelain angel statues at each corner of the dining room. As soon as I saw those little rascals, I knew I was in trouble.
It wasn’t long after I arrived that my sheer presence made the statues magically weep, which triggered my Holy Spidey-Senses hidden deep in my soul, and my Messiah-like wounds opened up.
I’m happy to make things right by coming back for a Halloween party if you have one.
Maybe your kids would get a kick out of some of my other gifts like being able to levitate or the ability to describe in detail, spooky facts about the upcoming apocalypse, which have slowly been revealed to me in a long series of fever dreams since I was young.
Feel free to send me any cleaning costs, and sorry again about your newly installed ivory board & batten wainscoting (great design choice BTW!), but to be honest I think crimson red really makes it pop.
