My father in a ball gown

Hello there,
Heaven help me! I'm turning into my father! Tonight I actually left a ball; a big huge fancy ball with dance cards and a live orchestra playing my favorite dances (waltz) all night. I didn't leave just because my recent ex was there or because I have a final on monday (we all know that I won't study). I left because it felt phonier than Woody Allen at a youth for Christ rally.
Sitting at one table, there were ex-roommates that went to court, ex friends that hadn't spoken for who knows how long, a boy who thought another table-mate had "tried to steal [his] girl", another one obviously intimidated by the company, people that just plain don't like eachother and on top of that my ex and I.... all pretending that everything is ok. But everything is not ok. People do shitty things. Some people may thrive on drama but I've done my debutante ball. I don't need to prove my social graces and see no point in enduring 3 1/2 hours of people pretending to like each other unless a family obligation is involved.
So I left the waltzing to the people who need it to affirm their self worth or unlike my father and myself, have the abillity to hold their toungs with a smile.