So Friday I said I would be partying it up with Pitbull, and I bet you didn’t believe me. Well believe it. Through a string of extremely fortunate events, two of my ladies and I ended up in an intimate gathering with Mr. Worldwide (I like to call him Armando now that we’re bffs) and Marc Anthony in their hotel suite.
Here’s how it happened: Eight of us ladies decided that we should definitely go to the Pitbull concert mostly because it would be fun and outrageous but also because the tickets were only $20. So we were hanging out in our room before the concert talking about how we saw James Woods in line at Panera and one lady decided to make friends with the randos next door. Then we went off to the concert, which was awesome – surprise guest was Marc Anthony.
After that we obvi. had to go back to the room and drink before going to Shrine because who wants to buy a $12 vodka soda when you have a perfectly good bottle of Barefoot pinot in the room? Anyway, to our surprise, not only did we find a wheel chair in the hallway (jackpot) but our new friends, Lonesome George and Normal-sized Waye, from next door had won $10,000 at the casino and stuck this note onto our door with gum (classy):
Okay, deal; we’ll meet you at your $600 VIP table, no problem. We weren’t there for more than 10 minutes when Pitbull, Marc Anthony and their crew walk in. We all got to hug them and shake hands etc. and then they basically turned around and left. Being the scrappy ladies that we are, three of us had moved over to the balcony to
get closer to the celebs watch everyone dancing downstairs. One of my ladies caught some man’s attention and all of the sudden we were being led through the kitchen and back to the service elevator with some chicks from Paramus and a Ukranian woman. The first elevator was too full so we had to wait for a second one, but as the doors closed we saw Pitbull and Marc.
The rest is kind of a blur. First we were in one room, then we were in a new room with glasses of Grey Goose (not on the rocks) in our hands. Then we were in a living room getting offered beer from a bar tender and listening to Pitbull’s iPod.
I was starstruck for a few minutes, but then everyone was so nice and the party was so laid-back that we just started owning the place. I helped Pitbull DJ the party.
“Um, I don’t like this one, Pitbull.”
“Okay, well how about this song? You’ll like it, it’s straight from Cuba.”
P.S. in case you were wondering, Pitbull listens to normal music. He put on “Mr. Saxobeat,” and “Take Over Control” and some of his own songs (are they under “me” in his iPod?). Also in case you were wondering, he does have eyes behind his sunglasses.
We danced with their crew and my lady schmoozed it with Marc Anthoy’s brother and nephew/cousin (exact relationship is unclear due to aforementioned Grey Goose). We also got invited to the MTV VMAs next weekend. We’re supposed to get our tickets by emailing some sketchy address…haven’t heard back about that one yet. But I’m on a lucky streak so who knows!
Then to be honest, we really just wanted to go back to the club so we gave our buddy, Pitbull, a hug and a kiss on the cheek and he told us he was so happy we came and we left to find our other five ladies who were fuming because we ditched them. But we weren’t allowed to answer our phones in the secret party!
Meanwhile, our friends, Lady S and Lady B, had been wandering the casino trying to find the Pitbull party and they wound up in the security office, and then they crashed an all-Black wedding and tried to say they were third cousins of the bride. Nice try, girls. Then they met Jenna Marbles and she gave them attitude.
The night ended with some pizza with Pitbull’s opening act – I don’t remember his name but he wasn’t at the after party so I am obviously more famous than he is.
Moral of the story: I meet celebrities, always.