So this weekend is the NBA All Star game. I can't say that I am actually caring whatsoever. I was reading the prices for the parties at some of the clubs for the joe-public admission. Sean Comb's party on Sunday night is a hundred bucks. No ticket for a cocktail. Nada. Just getting into 1082 (ok its called Vinyl now but it will always be 1082 in my heart, with the old crematorium stuff in the basement... rad.... I wonder if Puffy knows that about his venue? Not that it would matter) and being cordened off in some lame person area most likely.
There are going to be huge lines. I can't wait to watch the insane-ness in this city over the next seven or so days.
The party I want to get into is Michael Jordon's. His party is sanctioned totally after hours and that means cocktails at 5 a.m. should that happen.
I will honestly say the money that will be pumped into the local economy is terrific and for those uninitiated to what goes along with celebrity sightings I am going to offer the following instructions:
1) take your digital picture but move along
2) should you have the luxury of being able to enter personal space, be respectful, say your appreciation to Jack Nicholson for his work, but leave the man alone
3) don't whatever you do expect conversation...ain't gunna happen
I know this because the two times (no three I forgot) I have been effected by celebrity I did all the wrong things.
Love and Rockets: had to mike Daniel Ash and totally forgot where I was, became a statue and forgot how to speak English
Tim Burton: blathered on and on about something that I do not have a clue what it was but I am sure it was unsensical and wrong on more than one level.
Shaq: Insulted him at a payphone and kept saying "damn those are some big feet"
Only one of those people will be in town this weekend and I promise you Shaq... Ifn' I do see you I will apologize and move on my merry little way.
No comments:
Post a Comment