My friend Marissa is a little freckled Irish Promo Girl. That basically means that she goes to events, bars, clubs and liquor stores and talks up a particular alcohol to sell. Sometimes she’ll even give out samples and little give-aways.
A couple weeks ago, her boss asked her if she wanted to work a short shift on New Year’s Eve. Since it was double the pay, she decided to take it. When she got to the location, though, that’s when things started to get funny.She walked into the Marriott Hotel, the address she was texted, and into the private party being held — a private party consisting only of Indian people.
“Hi, I’m Marissa. I’m here to work the party. My boss said he left a package for me here.”
“Ohhh, you must be the belly dancer!” one man exclaimed.
“What? Belly dancer? No, no, I’m…”
“Yes, yes! Here, follow me! I’ll take you into the next room to change into your costume,” a woman excitedly said, pulling her arm.
“No, you don’t understand. I’m not a belly dancer,” she said, panicking.
After hearing another 10 people say the words “belly dancer” she finally yelled, “I have never been and will never be a belly dancer!! I work for Drinks on Us!”
Everyone went quiet, probably feeling sorry for the confused belly dancer. Then Marissa heard a small voice behind her.
“Oh, this must be for you,” said the girl behind the bar, and she handed Marissa her boss’ package.
Relieved, she worked the party and left a few hours later — never having to shake her hips for the patrons.
“I don’t know Mariss, you should have just done it. Maybe you could have made some extra tips,” I said when I heard the hysterical story.
Have you ever been a victim of hilarious mistaken identity?