I’m sorry I am probably the last person to tell you about the Bridgerton Ball fiasco here in Detroit last weekend. (Not as sorry as the dailies should be, who fumbled a story that went national. New York magazine even had an interview with the pole dancer. But I’m getting ahead of myself.)

I’m not a Bridgerton fan, or even a watcher, although I know the premise of the show, which is sort of a fantasy Regency-England costume soap on Netflix, now in its third season. It’s based on a series of books, and produced by Shonda Rhimes. The producers practice what you might call “Hamilton” casting, which is to say, it’s color-blind, and so London high society is chock-full of people of color, which is never remarked upon. Even the queen is black, and it’s n.b.d.

Because of this casting, the show has a lot of black fans, which led to a non-show-affiliated party or parties to get the idea for a Bridgerton Ball in Detroit. Tickets were pricey, well over $100 to start and upward from there, and the idea was that you’d get dressed up in ball gowns and tiaras for the ladies (breeches and tailcoats for the gents) and attend a party on the scale of the ones in the show. (Never seen the show, but I gather it has a lot of balls.)

The first warning sign was when the party was moved from August to September over “venue issues,” but eventually the day came, and guests arrived at a historic event space to find: Scarce food, much of it cold or undercooked. Harsh lighting against bare white walls. No seating whatsoever. No orchestra playing waltzes, but a single violinist. Some paper backdrops for photos. And a pole dancer.

This photo, from the pole dancer’s Instagram, captures so, so much:

Part of me can’t stop laughing. I mean, this interview!

Did you see any of the details that have been reported — like, that there was chicken that was served raw or that plates were being reused?

No, but when I was doing character work for them, I did try going downstairs to see what was going on. The first floor was a mob of people, where you couldn’t really walk, so I just went back upstairs.

What is character work?

They basically just had me walk around and say, “Hello, I’m your Bridgerton fairy,” and just add to the ambience of the night. I don’t know. [Laughs.] It was weird.

Did they tell you to say that? What did they tell you to do?

No, I was going off-book because I didn’t know what they wanted me to do. They just said, “Do character work.” That was it. Usually when I work, I’m going to events as Tink the Fairy, so I just switched it to the Bridgerton Fairy.

Were you dressed as a fairy?

No, I was wearing what you saw in the video. But I did have a short lace robe on over it. I was trying to make the best of it.

And another big part of me feels terrible, because it looks like a lot of black ladies (and white ladies) just wanted to play dress-up for a night and pretend they were members of a royal court, but instead got a royal scam.

I know you will be as shocked as I am that the people who put this on — an LLC called Uncle N Me — is nowhere to be found. I’d say check the Tower of London, but I know we’re in an alternate reality here.

Anything else? Oh, I have some angry JD Vance stuff, but at this point, let’s not spoil the weekend. March into it like you’re Queen Charlotte! We’ll talk after it’s over.