"HOLY SH--, in that dress, you must be drinking champagne."
I tossed back the bubbly coup and soaked in this prelude to the evening- tonight was going to be fire.
We were ushered into the lounge where Carlos Santana's daughter gave a live performance in celebration of her birthday. I was transfixed by her smokey soul- a veritable minx: part bluesy funk and jazz, her Miley buns and Erikah Badu swagger had me vibing out. Quick turn around and I'm seated at a table of 10. The surrounding females were a mishmosh of the unique spectrum of women in my life: club encounters, college classmates, coworkers, and friends of friends. All my invitees. Mid-dinner, the Doc (man flesh #43762) arrived, prompting me and a girlfriend to leave the table and respectfully join him for a round of drinks at the bar. Light conversation about the awards gala at the Pierre Hotel he ditched to meet us, and I came back to 8 hungry girls feasting on entrees of pesto Bronzino, slurping goblets of apple studded sangria, and nibbling crispy potatoes and cauliflower. Satiated, we continued to mix and mingle among ourselves. I took the liberty of hoping on/ curating a tour of the restaurant with a VIP client and the flamboyant pin thin maitre'd. This lead to the back room, where I encountered tonight's photographer who immediately swept me away for a private photo shoot in my striking red getup. "Lemme get that dress."
This OG directed me here and there- and threw me some party favors to turn my two rigid left feet into the beaming confidence of a buck naked Giselle Bunchen on a Maxim shoot. I hovered over a pool table, swung from a low hanging chandelier, wrapped my body around the banquets with high heels in the air. I dramatically grasped couch cushions like carmen the opera does VOGUE. He snapped the Cannon: lights, camera- Action!
Once I get on ya champagne- the Maneater don't stop. I sauntered back into the lounge and rejoined the Doc and friends, this time I opportunely slipped into a conversation with him and a Laurence Fishburne lookalike, me and my girlfriend. They threw out the opportunity to travel to Paris- takers? the four of us?
Before I consumed myself with daydreams of eau-de-St.-Germain-de-pres, I was hustled into a cab by my roommate to escape the obnoxiousness of her platinum haired friend and underage, doll-faced boytoy. Time to go. Hydrate, wakeup, adderall, repeat.
#Monday
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