This past weekend, Mister and I attended a party. It was a grand party. There was a photo booth. There was phenomenal food. There was fire.
“Mighty Mike” was working the music at this particular shindig, and it was thumping. At some point in the evening, Mighty Mike announced it was time for fire! He juggled it. He breathed it. He swallowed it. That guy seemed to be real friends with those fire batons he twirled about so freely.
And I was nervous. There was a definite breeze about that night. It was super-cold (for L.A.), but that didn’t alleviate my fears. As Mighty Mike waved fire this close to his face, I winced and hoped for the best. In the end, I was mighty grateful no one had to push Mighty Mike into the pool.
I know that parties around the globe can hold wonderful and unexpected entertainment for guests at any time. I also know that here in Los Angeles, we just never know what’s in store when we head to a shindig. On this particular night, our big surprise came in the small package that is Mighty Mike. And you know what? He’s a super-nice guy to boot.
And I am still so glad that guy didn’t go up in flames.