I would like to start this posting by apologizing to my mother. I know you will read this and I know you will not be happy. But come on, it’s a pretty hilarious story.
Second of all, if you’re my age, 2 Live Crew is a little before our time. But I know you know their songs, like this one:
And this one:
So now you know who we’re talking about, I’ll get into the story.
A few summers ago, my friends and I all decided to go to the 2 Live Crew show because come on, how awesome is that? And not only did we decide we needed to be in attendance, we thought it would be fun and funny to dress up as Pimps and Hoes. So I spent a good hour picking out fishnet tights, a tiny mini denim skirt, high heels, low cut top, the most ghetto scrunchie I could find, and blue eye shadow.
I show up to the arranged pre-party spot, (Half Fast, holler!) and find that while Kassity is rocking some pretty sweet boots, she’s got them over jeans and a normal boob shirt, and the guys are in their normal Friday attire. They had a change of heart about our theme night and forgot to call me. It’s too late to go back and change, so I decide to say “F*%k it, I’m getting drunk and having fun with this. That’ll be two Long Islands for East Colfax’s finest over here!”
We head into the show, fashionably late, of course after a quick pit stop at The Sink for probably three shots? Could have been four. I drag Kassity straight to the front of the crowd and within 30 seconds I feel my arm getting pulled on from above and next thing I know, I’m on stage with 2 Live Crew. I get embarrassed, dance a little, ha ha this is fun and I hop back down to crush the beer that is in front of me, cheeks flushed and feeling silly. The song ends and one of the rapper dudes on stage is all, “Holler, yo yo yo, bitches, hoes, etc etc, let’s get some ladies up on stage here to shake they asses! Who thinks they can shake they asses?” At this point, I seemed to have made some fans around me because while I’m trying to duck out to avoid going back up on stage, instead of being pulled up from above, this time I’m getting lifted from the floor by a couple of strapping young fellows who are shouting, “I bet she can shake her ass!” To fight it would have proven to have been futile. I had to accept my fate of entering the booty shaking contest. But I wasn’t going down alone, I looked Kassity straight in the eyes and screamed at her from the stage, “If you don’t get up here with me, we will NEVER be friends again!” I mean, that’s how I remember it going, however, it was probably more like, “Woooooo! Kassssssity, shake your ass with me! SHAKE YOUR ASS!” Well the guys around her seemed to have had the same idea and she was almost at once also being lifted to the stage. Then we shook our asses. I did the stand and put my hands in front of me booty shake, I held onto the DJ booth and did the booty pop. You name a way to shake your ass and I did it, most enthusiastically.
Obviously I was crowned the winner and was requested to stay on stage to continue my shimmying. At one point I tried to sneak off the stage, but my fans in the front row pushed me back up even after I lost my shoe trying to get down. I didn’t know the night could get any better for me when while I was on stage, they asked me if I could do the stanky leg. And it probably was less of them asking more of them saying, “Do the stanky leg! Do the stanky leg!” I had never heard of such thing but figured it couldn’t be that hard, so I stood on one leg, drunk as a skunk, in my heels, and shook the other leg in the air. Just shook it. Didn’t shimmy. Didn’t pop, drop, and lock it. Nope, just shook my leg. I’m pretty sure they all just laughed at me and asked some other girl to do it. I probably just stood there and watched, two feet on the ground, still trying not to fall over.
The next song starts playing and I find in my hands a HUGE bottle of Courvoisier. “Well,” I think, “I suppose they want me to drink this. And pour it all over myself.” And clearly that’s what I did until I saw one of the guys handing out cups to the people in the front row of the stage and I realize that my job is to fill up their cups. That was a pretty difficult task for me at this point in the night and I’m pretty sure I just made it rain cognac all over the Fox Theater. Finally, the music stops, the house lights go up and the show is over. I clamor of the stage and just as I find Kassity, I feel a hand on my shoulder and turn to see a rather large man who says, “You girls were on stage dancing, the guys would like to meet you.”
At that point, things are pretty blurry. But according to Kassity, they split us up immediately, sent me over to talk to Fresh Kid Ice who was sitting on a couch all by himself. This part I remember, I walked up to him, stood in front of him, stuck my hand out to shake his and said, “That was a great show! I had so much fun!” In the best proper white girl voice I have, slurred a bit. At which point, Kassity grabs me and drags me out of the green room and out of the Fox, talking a million miles a minute and I think something about the guy they sent her to was their muscle and he said he liked her boots but would like them better on his floor yada yada yada?…. Yeah, sounded like a classy gentleman to me too!
Now the night didn’t end there, I could keep talking about how I made Kassity switch me shoes so I could wear her sparkly hooker boots while I walked down the hill to Pearl St. Or how Jesse had to convince the bouncer to let me in the door at the Pub and then bought me ANOTHER shot. Or how when my boyfriend walked me home, I tried to stop for a nap in a grassy field. OR how I demanded pizza, refused to get into bed, and slept on the floor. But none of that is really all that funny.
Remember kids- rap music and alcohol are dangerous drugs. They can create hilarious and unforgettable (or unrememerable) nights.