Sunday, June 21, 2009

At First You Don't Succeed...Try Again

*Due to the circumstances there are a lack of photos. I apologize.

"I was on a guest list, I was suppose to get in easily"

Then and there I watched this over weight Spanish "bouncer" tear off the lamination on my ID and proceed to crush it with his hands, all while a crowd of people giggled to themselves. I put up a 5 minute fight prior, asking for it back in as many ways possible, none of which made the situation any better.

I've called the cops on bouncers before and I learned that NYC cops don't give a fuck about "trivial matters." I often wonder what cops do care about, maybe just their job.

"I hope you enjoy your fucking job"

"I love it"

Bouncers all have the same attitude as if their trained not to have any feeling or sympathy. Maybe if I was a girl with a nice rack he would have treated me differently, who knows.

"Get the fuck outta here, never come to this club again"

Been told that one before.

I walk backwards, slowly, as pissed as ever, cursing and shouting, probably making things worse for myself in the future.

But now...

I'm a fighter, I go till the 12th round and if I go down, I'm not going with out a dramatic finish.

What I soon realized after the initial incident, was that I had a second ID on me (I have multiple personalities) and there are two or three entrances into the club, so thought why not try a different ID at a different entrance. All I had to do was avoid the two bouncers that knew me.

I was standing in line a few people back from getting into the club, anxious as a house wife fearing I would be spotted and thrown to pavement.

"Everybody step to the right"

Steve Aoki and his entourage arrive in the same fashion that every other band enters Webster Hall, quickly and with great respect from managment. I spotted an oppurtunity when I noticed Mark The Cobrasnake, a famous nightlife photographer that I've followed for years.

In a panic, I state my name, extend my hand and say "Hey man, can you help me out, I'm having trouble getting in"

He looked at me like I was a wet puppy abandoned in the rain and said, "Yeah sure man, you're with us. Come on"

The very same bouncer that took my ID escorted Aoki, The Cobra Snake and a whole group of young frenchies, MYSELF included to the upstairs, backstage dressing room.

Aoki comes up to me in the middle of the room, looks me dead in the eyes relaxed and with a blank stare and says, "They ripped up your ID man, that sucks"

I regret not taking out my camera earlier for the only photo is a poor shot where you can see Mark to the left and a young model to the right. Everyone was in the room for about 2 minutes before Mark told Aoki they should bounce and everyone else followed. Ironically I didn't see Mark once after that, not on stage, not in the crowd.

Great thanks to Mark for helping me get in,


PS. Party photos and more absurdity @ my other blog.
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