Since I've been traveling so much, I missed my last two hip-hop classes and as you know, there haven't been any dance-related blogs for your reading pleasure. No worries, readers, it's about to get crunk up in herrrre, because I had many opportunities to practice my skills, both in the Bahamas and in Vegas.
Hip-Hop Abroad Part 1
Dancing on top of a bar might seem like something only a stripper would do. But when you're doing it for your job, and your job is not stripping, it suddenly it seems natural, classy and typical of daily publicist duties. At the resort, I had the chance to dance party with my journalists and the resort's staff on top of the bar… the bar that was especially designed to hold lots of people. I didn't practice too many of my hip-hop moves from my lofty perch - I've had quite enough serious injuries in the past few years, thank you - but back on solid ground I taught the Soulja Boy moves to the guests and did some gentle, subdued hip-hopping of my own. It was far short of all-out-crumping, but it gave me the confidence to really wild out in Vegas.
Hip-Hop Abroad Part 2
On Friday night, we 13 bachelorette revelers headed to PURE at Caesar's Palace. PURE, as you may have heard, has been the site of many a Vegas debacle, like Paris Hilton's latest birthday party. The wild night seemed to go on forever as we shuffled from one VIP section to the next - quite frankly, some were better than others. Around VIP Level 3, we were invited to hang with two Russian fellows who didn't speak a word of English but were proficient in Champagne-sharing. We danced and danced, marveling at the insanity around us (is that a hooker?) and rocking out to DJ AM's groovy beats.
As the night and the beats wore on, I began to think of Bev B's dance class and it occurred to me, "There's no time like the present to practice crumping!" I asked a couple of the girls to keep an eye on me in case I had a real seizure while pretending to have a fake dance seizure. Suddenly and without warning, all the Bev B advice came together and I was shakin' 'da ice, sprayin' 'da water, losin' my mind and havin' a seizure. I never thought it could be done, but there I was, legitimately breakin' it down hip-hop style. If Bev B could only have seen! I had to stop after about one minute because I thought I was having a crump-induced asthma attack, but it passed and I crumped on.
Just then, a big bouncer came up beside me. "Oh no," I thought. "I bet he knows Bev B and he's here to mock me." My heart sank. And then he whispered the golden words that I would forever keep in my heart, "We want you to come dance on the stage." Shut your mouth, Big Bouncer! I mean, I had a feeling my newfound crumpskills were good, but I had no idea I was profesh enough for the stage at PURE. The opportunities that could grow from this one night … chance occurences like this are how people get into music videos, then become actors, then win Oscars and Tony Awards! Diddy could be here, or Jay Z or Janet Jackson. My fabulous life as a celebrity was unfolding before my very eyes… all because we chose PURE over Tao or LAX.
I grabbed Amanda and Martha and we exited VIP Level 3 and awaited our escort into the stage area - like VIP Level 10. As soon as the velvet rope was lifted, we ascended the stairs and immediately began crumping at the front of the stage. That lasted 7 seconds, then Big Bouncer came back and whispered, "You're not up here to dance by yourself." Wrong-o, Big Bouncer, that's exactly why I'm here. But I didn't want to blow my chance at MTV, so I followed his nudge toward a few guys lounging on the white leather chaises at the back of the stage. We made our introductions and started to dance… though the crumping was noticably absent from this interaction. It's quite difficult to have a seizure while carrying on a conversation. At any rate, I don't recall much of the small talk with this fellow, as he was eager to get right down to business.
"Do you want to go do some lines?" He said nonchalantly. Ho.ly.cr.ap. Drugs?! My head was spinning. Devastated, I realized that no one cared about my crumping prowess… I was only invited onto the stage because I was a cute girl who looked like she might want to snort some coke. Ski. Do blow. Or whatever the kids are calling it nowadays. Couldn't this guy tell that he was asking the most naïve and drug-opposed tourist in Las Vegas? Apparently not.
"So, do you want to?"
"Are you like a good girl or something?"
"You have no idea. Mmmk, bye." I grabbed Martha and Amanda and said, "That guy just asked me if I wanted to do lines - let's get out of here." My time in the spotlight - less than 3 minutes.
On Saturday morning as we recounted the evening's best stories, Martha declared, "I think you maybe overreacted a bit with that guy last night." OMG - Martha loves drugs? I had no idea. "I mean, he just asked you to do lunch. You could have said no."
When I stopped hysterically laughing, I explained that he'd asked me to do coke, not Coca-Cola and a sammich. I guess she couldn't hear me over DJ AM's block rockin' jamz.
Today on Perez I saw this new video from NERD, basically about coke and the club scene. It explains a lot about the goings-on in Vegas.