So, we all have experiences at parties that stay with us for years, and they end up being the funny stories we tell at other parties for years to come. This is one of my all-time favorites. After this party, I got so self-conscious, I never let anyone sit behind me during my presentation. Everyone had to sit in front of me, or to the side, and if they questioned why, I’d tell them this story….

Many years ago, I had earned the incentive trip to Hawaii with a previous company. In past years, I always cashed out because I was terrified of flying. A really wonderful friend of mine earned the trip for one as well, and wanted me to room with her. With much cajoling, she convinced me with enough drugs and moral support, I could get on the plane and do the trip. I did it, but barely.

So, being the unseasoned traveler that I was, I scheduled a party for the day after my flight left Hawaii, not realizing that there is a BIG time zone difference (yes, I can be an airhead at times!). I literally got home from my trip, had to change clothes, grab my jewelry and go straight to my show. Normally I would have tried to dovetail the party, but it was a starter party, and I don’t do that to new starts–they sign up with me, they get ME for their starter party.

I also got a horrible sunburn in Hawaii. I mean HORRIBLE. To the point that I didn’t wear underwear, because the elastic band on my underwear was pinching my sunburn. So, I went to the party with my black palazzo pants on, a black Spanx tank top, and a black sweater (my old “uniform”).

One thing I used to do during my parties is hand out playing cards when guests participated in the presentation. It was a way to keep their attention, foster some friendly competition for the prize I would hand out to the person with the most cards, and it phased into my “booking game” at the end. I would give cards for anything–if you laughed at my jokes, asked questions, and believe it or not, at some parties, if you just made eye contact (come on, we have all had THOSE nights…).

During the party, when talking about my “why”, I mentioned I started doing this particular business to pay off my $19,000 (yes, NINETEEN THOUSAND DOLLAR) QVC credit card bill. Everyone in the group gasped. They usually did. Yep, someone had the same issue. I liked to blame my husband. He snored something fierce back in those days, before the CPAP machine. And I had to fall asleep to the TV blaring to drown out his snoring. And what else is on at 2 AM? Not much. I became very friendly with QVC, my QVC credit card, and many of their products. You know it’s bad when QVC is on speed dial, and the UPS man comes to your house several times a week with packages.

So, I mentioned the $19,000 QVC credit card bill, and the hostesses sister asked what in the world I could get at QVC for $19,000. I replied, “Oh, many of my clothes, my make up, purses, and…my Spanx.” Truth be told, I bought a TON of jewelry as well, but since I sold jewelry, the last thing I was going to do was turn them onto Judith Ripka jewelry on QVC. I can now say, THAT is what I wore when I was not working. It’s amazing…but I digress.

She then asked what Spanx was. This was many years ago, before Spanx was a household word and used generically for “fat-sucking undergarments”. Spanx was brand new, Oprah had not discovered it, and you pretty much could find it only at Nordstrom’s and QVC.

I pulled out the bottom of my tank top and said, “This is Spanx–it’s great–it sucks in your fat and smooths out your lumps and bumps. It’s like an American Express card…I don’t leave home without it.”

The hostesses sister then replied, “Well, obviously you ain’t wearing no Spanx on the bottom.”

WHHHHHHHHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT?

I was not sure I heard her correctly, so I asked her to repeat herself.

“Obviously you ain’t wearing no Spanx on the bottom. No way does a white girl have a booty like that naturally–you got to be wearing padded booty pants.”

I had no idea what she was talking about, but, it didn’t sound nice. I asked her to hold out the cards I had given her…and I took them away! I joked (half-joked…I was tired and basically I think she just said I had a big butt) with her and said, “I don’t know what padded booty pants are, but let me tell you something…I got so sunburned in Hawaii, I have NO PANTS ON. No underpants, no padded booty pants, NOTHING but these,” as I grabbed my black palazzo pants.

Now, I should point out, I was the only white person in this group, and it was a very large party. Right away, they could not understand why I took her cards away. I said, “I am not sure what padded booty pants are, but telling me I have a big butt is not going to make you win any of my prizes. My game, my rules. Rule #1, telling Joyce she has a big butt is rude.”

Everyone started speaking at once, but the general point everyone made was she was complimenting me. They all insisted that in the African-American community, having a big bubble butt like mine is very desired, and I should be flattered. I pointed out that, not sure if anyone noticed, but I am not African American, and we strive to NOT have a butt like mine.

Then a girl from across the room, decided to illustrate the point further. She said, “Listen, I WISH I had a big ole bubble butt like yours! I don’t and have to do this.” She unzipped her pants, reached down the back of her pants, and pulled something out. I AM DEAD SERIOUS. It was a big foam butt-like thing. I quickly learned that it was the “padding” part of her padded booty pants. I have had MANY things happen in my direct-selling career at my parties, many things I can’t even put here, but never have I had someone basically pull a prosthetic butt out of their underpants, and tell me they wear it so they can look more like ME.

I AM NOT KIDDING. Padded booty pants are a real thing, this gal was wearing them, to “look like me”…and I should be flattered.

I gave the hostesses sister her cards back. I mean, at this point, what can I even say back except “thank you”?

And then I went on the Adkins Diet the next day and lost 30 pounds in the next six months. Ironically, no matter how much weight I lose, I still look like I am wearing padded booty pants.