Wording of the outside world. At the Mobile Museum of Art, tickets for programs are priced $X for MMoA Members and $Y for Not-Yet Members. Clever.
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A Time You Had to Act like Someone You’re Not
We were in college at a frat party. My roommate had been cornered by a fellow who mistakenly thought himself charming. She was too kind to walk away. I am not as nice. I sailed over and inserted myself into the conversation. I ended up explaining in painstaking detail the life of a debutante. I dominated the conversation long enough for my roommate to slip away. The thing is, I had no idea. I did not have a debut. I have never been to a debut party. But, for a few minutes, to save a friend, I was a debutante.
Afterword
My submission to Micromemoir Marathon, contest #26. A Time You Had to Act like Someone You’re Not. Requirements were personal experience, 100 words, and short period of time. I had plans. In the end, this was the only one I submitted. The ideas failed to appear, except for post ideas, see below.
Entry was not accepted. I was invited to resubmitted as part of their regular program. Not gonna. Decided to post & move on. Posting counts as prior publication for this outlet.
In the bio, I described myself as a semi-retired freelance writer, then gave the blog name & address, which are different for boring historical reasons. [State of the Blog, Introduction].
Previous 5 Minute Posts
Fiction [The Arrival]
Non-fiction, non-format, [Pieces of My Past]
Onwards!
Katherine
Virtual Brush Box 
A grad student in the Metal Art Dept. at the University of Washington explained to me what a debutante was, why she might have been a debutant (old money), why she hadn’t been one (her mother had converted to Hinduism and disgraced the family), and why the system was a rat race and insufferable. She told her story with good humor and self-deprecation. She believed the private schools she’d attended were the only reason she’d been accepted into the famously particular program, but then she surprised herself, I think, by having a baby and doing wonderful work for her thesis.
Hopefully, your next entry for the Micromemoir Marathon will be accepted.
Just the word ‘debutante’ sets off a string of (un)known emotions and attitudes for many. I knew debs and not-gonna-debs in college, and most weren’t happy because of the social pressures put upon them by parents. Years later, as a newspaper photographer and much older than deb-age, I was assigned to local debutante events for the social pages in small-medium sized cities. I photographed as assigned, but personally, I couldn’t take the events as seriously as the parents and coordinators did. MM