Because of the foolishness that went down outside the California party on Friday night, many were skeptical about Saturday’s “Tale of Two Cities” bash hosted by the New York and Chicago delegations at the Andrew W. Mellon Auditorium. Getting there as early as the previous night’s hangover allowed, I didn’t wait in line for long. And once inside, one very resourceful friend pulled me aside to show off the contents of her clutch. No business cards were in there, but she did have a slew of “VIP” wristbands.
Sporting our ill-gotten green contraband, three of us waltzed into the “very important” section that housed everyone from comedian Niecy Nash to “I know that guy — he works at Banana Republic.” A photographer stopped us only because she was bombarded and couldn’t recognize a famous face from just a friendly one. “They’re letting everybody in here, aren’t they?” she asked. All I could do was smile for the camera.
Tempting fate and this year’s new rule (go to one good party and stay there), I hopped in a cab to head over to Roland Martin’s “Ascot Affair” at Toscana West downtown. Someone said Chris Rock was there, and I needed a good laugh, which is exactly what I got when the girl at the door asked for “ten dollars.” Charity? No. There was a cover. The woman waiting behind me promptly turned around on her high heels and headed in the opposite direction. Everyone has their limits.
Clocking CBC No. 3, I think I’ve reached mine. There are only so many times you can hear “Before I Let You Go” before you take the same advice. Hitting the scene this year was a necessary reminder — an alarm clock, maybe — that certain scenes just shouldn’t be replayed. You know, hopping from open bar to open bar has gotten old when the highlight of that game of leapfrog is someone buying you a pair of flip-flops.
Helena Andrews writes the “Single-Minded” column for The Root. She is the author of Bitch Is the New Black (HarperCollins), a memoir in essays.