Go to the Met Gala

I want to go to the Met Gala (or, more technically, the Costume Institute Gala).  I love the Met, I love NYC, and as far as soirees go, the fancier the better.

My dad is from Long Island, and his sister still lives in the City.  When I was little, I remember seeing the Rockettes and Christmas window displays.  We also got to go on a special tour of the Federal Reserve, in which I sat at a Board Room table, got to go into the vault and hold a gold bar, and was given a package of thousands of dollars in shredded money.  It was awesome!

When I was in college, my aunt took me on the train into the City for the day.  I squeezed into her apartment for a while, and we took the bus.  A guy sitting across the aisle gave me a portrait he had sketched of me before getting off at Rockefeller Center.  The rest of the day was spent at the Met, which seemed to have more riches than the Federal Reserve.  I saw knightly armor, Tiffany glass, and clothing worn by European aristocracy.  Most perplexing fact learned: panties are a pretty modern fashion staple.

Of course, as far as fashion goes the Met Gala is the place to be.  It's tough to be glamourous with a physique as weird as mine, and I've always wanted a gown to be custom-made so as to actually fit.  I bet an up-and-coming designer would be willing to help out with that if they knew their creation would be seen by the world's elite at the Gala.  Problem: the cheapest ticket is $5k.  If only I could glue that shredded money back together...