You change into your dress in the nearest bathroom (don't worry, you look fabulous).  You go the ball.  You arrive and are admitted (of course, you said you were Miss Sanders, but that's ok...why would Miss Sanders be here?).  You scan the crowd--ambassadors, businessmen, a few military personnel, and various other 'important' people (I don't think I have to mention the spies).  You pause.  What do you do next?
Ask the French ambassador to dance.
Stand in the corner and observe.
Pay the band to play some music, grab Colonel Sarkhov and tango.
Stab the Russian ambassador with your staletto heel.
Get a drink.
Start up a conversation with Fred Davidson about his oil trade with Iran.
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