g i r l h a t t a n

g i r l h a t t a n

Friday, August 11, 2006

no west for the ricked...


so last night, on the pretense of being able to meet ludacris, we arrived at the hammerstein ballroom at 7:30pm. on arrival, we were informed that the doors opened at 8pm. it was raining, so hard and so loud that it was tough to think. we watched a girl try to jump over a gutter river from street to sidewalk, and lose a flip flop. the flip flop floated down the roaring rapids, under a car and almost to the corner before the girl could catch it.

so we ran through the pouring rain to chipotle, across the street, and ate burritos while listening to talvin singh. then back across the street where now the word was "doors open at 9pm."

9pm. more waiting, division of crowd into castes: gen ad, vip and guestlist.

9:15pm. more waiting. entry into club where the smoke machine made the steps hard to see. hi, my name is lawsuit, how are you?

overly tan girls in white earmuffs, white bras, white mini skirts and white furry boots were dancing. a girl in a white unitard was inside of a plexiglass box, writhing. my wristband entitled me to 3 free coors lights. i decided to have one.

10pm. more waiting. spotted jean claude the funky pirate. watched guys taking cell phone photos of the grinding girl in the box.

10:30. drank my second beer. vowed never to drink coors light ever, ever again.

11:00. my feet hurt. my adidas snakeskin fleetwoods, while stylish, lack proper arch support.

11:45pm. publicist materializes out of nowhere. we (and a guy from rolling stone) are hustled through the crowd, past the bar, past the dancing girl in the box, past the photo op set up where sway is being photographed, behind a big black curtain, through a door, down a ramp, past a trash dumpster, around a corner, up the stairs, to the right, up more stairs, into a dressing room where luda stands, surrounded by entourage, in chanel sunglasses, white track jacket, white track pants, newly cropped hair. he looks different without his signature braids. younger? softer? somehow? we gaze into the opaque tint of his black black shades as he smiles and shakes our hand. he makes a joke with the guy from rolling stone. and then that's it.

11:48pm. back down the stairs around the corner up the ramp, to rejoin the riff raff.

12 midnight. luda puts on a great show. what's your fantasy, throw them bows, area codes, pimpin' all over the world, get out the way, etc. luda has a giant diamond pendant in the shape of the continent of africa. it swings, catches the light, and i get hypnotized. bobby v comes out to help - actually sings. chamillionaire - lumbers on to the stage in a hoodie and dark glasses, shakes some hands, hangs out and then disappears.

1:30am. i get home and pass out.

today. i got just my luck on dvd via work and i think that's what i'm going to do tonight - it looks sucktastic and brain numbing, which is just what i need.

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