|Bottle service @Trump SoHo New York – by Moi|
My bar-hopping days in NYC are now definitely over. On Sunday, July 7th I brought Ella Christine Wilson into the world at 7 lbs, 19.5 inches! As I take care of her, I am reminded of my party days when I was in my 20s in NYC…such as the night when I met someone famous:
For over a decade, the Meatpacking district has been a hotspot in Manhattan for clubbin’, loungin’, and VIPing in exclusive clubs where celebrities rub shoulders with socialites and those who have the “right look” or the $ to get past the bouncer. When I was in college, my first Meatpacking celebrity experience took place in the famous Lotus (now closed).
I was on the “get in for free by 11 PM” list, which meant that my friend and I were among the very first to arrive! Our mission: flirt with bouncer manning the roped off VIP area to score free booze! Two hours later we succeeded, having drinks and dancing at someone’s table. Then I got a tap on my shoulder. I turned around and a tall black man was standing there.
“Lennox Lewis wants to buy you a drink,” boomed the man. I was speechless–I had not noticed the famous boxer at his corner table filled with his entourage of friends.
I looked at my friend, smiled, and said, “Okay!” We turned around and walked over. Lennox waved as a friend made us two cocktails. His entourage was pretty chill, no one was disrespectful.
All of a sudden, a girl we knew from college arrived in VIP randomly and saw us sitting with Lennox. Terribly inebriated, she rushed to say hello to us, then she leaped over the table to dance in front of Lennox to get his attention–I was horrified! She pulled out her phone and started taking pictures with him and I wanted to crawl into a hole and die. Shortly after, the heavyweight champ decided it was time to move on (I didn’t blame him).
My friend and I were having such a good time we stayed and ended up dancing on the couch at the first table. Suddenly, my friend’s foot accidentally slipped and she made the table almost flip over! Liquor, glasses, and juice flew everywhere!
I looked at her as if to say, “We better leave before they charge us for this!” Then a woman who was wearing sunglasses and looked like Angelina Jolie climbed over the couch to talk to us.
“Don’t worrrryy!” she yelled in a thick Italian accent over the booming base in the club. “Let’s leave this party! Want to come in our limo?”
As tempting as a limo drive around town sounded, we were ready to move on ourselves and grab some much needed comfort food–pizza. As we walked out on to the cobblestone street to get a taxi, I realized how lucky we were: we had gotten into VIP, received drinks from a world-renowned boxer, and escaped a pricey bottle service tab. We were champs that night!