Celebration balls and the Western civilization

When I decided to cut through the convention center area, I didn't remember the celebrations of the day. I'm on my way to pick up my friend S., before heading out to a movie. I'm not late so the inching traffic does not bother me. I just watch as tens of men and women in tuxedos and gowns are walking pass my car.
I see the door of the car next to me opening. A woman wearing a very thin, silky, burgundy dress exits and hurries toward a large gathering in the middle of the plaza.
It's below freezing and I marvel at her ability to impose her will onto the local weather, as if it just didn't apply to her, as if to say: "cold are for the other people. The ones that don't get invited to fancy balls. I just declare this to be a heat wave and it will be".
A bystander, bundled up with only his eyes somewhat visible, is also looking at the woman, his head shaking in total disbelief. A small sign next to him shows an arrow pointing left with the words "Committee on Western civilization".