Today's Dilemma

Christ. Circumstance has found a way to work against me. It usually does at critical times when I need it to come together. Here's the deal.

I have the pleasure of hosting two visitors on Tuesday. They've come from Texas so it's quite important to me to be the picture of the accommodating and gracious New Yorker. Truthfully, it's really important to me. This city is chock full of great things, but the real merit of this unique borough are the character of its people. Yes we're noisy and generous with our opinions, but we'll also peel the shirt off our backs if you need it. I mean, we're here to help.

So my friend Caryl--a woman I have actually never met but have corresponded with online for half a year--is here on my turf with her sister. I am meeting her on Tuesday so that we may attend the opportunity of meeting the maestro of the harp, a certain southern gent. He wrote a book, I hear. He's signing the book, somewhere on 5th Avenue. My friend came quite a few miles to meet him. The least I can do is go along to snap a picture of them, hold her purse and keep her from physically fondling this musician/author. I take my responsibilities as a representative of New York positive tourism seriously. I am waiting for my citation, Mr. Bloomberg. And yes, you pompous rich man, I deserve it.

However, I will confess a tiny sliver of vanity creeping into the overall objective and importance of this mission. I've never actually met the musician/author in question. I'd kind of like to shake his hand and thank him. Any fellow who thinks it's cool to introduce 20-somethings to Sam Cooke and Otis Redding and Traffic and Ray Charles is aces in my book. Anyone who has the balls to bang on a cowbell on the 2 and 4 in performance mode is my hero. Anyone who is not afraid to get down with their bad self dancing like he's just ingested a mega hit of speed--that's awesome. I do admire the musical sensibilities of this man. He gets it and I'd like to shake this brother's hand.

And herein lies my dilemma. It's going to be viciously hot on Tuesday. I hear maybe 90 degrees with copious humidity. Sorting through my wardrobe, I settle on a black sun dress. Why? Because--HELLO--it's New York and we wear black here but also because the dress is a light jersey and it breathes. I try it on and realize to my horror that the grappling class I took on Thursday night has left my arms covered with murky bruises. My left arm has one, where you can see my opponent grabbed my bicep. Her fingerprints are embedded. On my right arm, well, it looks like I've been in a street fight. I have no less than four deep and nasty bruises decorating my arm. Holy shit. Do I wear the comfortable dress and look like I engaged in a street fight prior to the book signing? Or do I wear long sleeves, look considerably more feminine and hang back and sweat like a gladiator, holding Caryl's purse?

Or does it even matter?

I'd welcome your opinion.