Why do I meet such interesting people? (pt 2)

As much as I love a good introductory paragraph, I really should get on with this story. I can tell that you've all been on pins and needles waiting for the next installment. So here it goes.

But before I get into that, I have to set this up a little bit. The owner of the bar that we were going to was more of an acquaintance rather than a friend. In fact, I had never been to his bar before that night. I met him by acting in a play that he and produced and co-starred in and he had extended a general invitation to the cast that we could show up at any time, mention his name, and we could get in with no problems. So I figured what better way to impress a potential porn star than to drop a name at the door.

We walk up to Bar 13 and there was a ridiculously long line. But I'm feeling confident. After all, I knew the owner. I proceeded to walk up to the absolute worst possible person that could have helped in this situation. A young lady with a clipboard in her hands, looking completely frantic as she is trying to coordinate the large number of people in line with names on a list. (The god-awful, New York club list) I asked her if,"T," was there. (I'm going to try and maintain a wee bit of anonymity just in case he doesn't want the paparazzi all over him after I mention him in this blog) She very abruptly said, "No!"

Devastated, I slumped my way back to my friends and the possible porn chick. Defeated, I stated that I couldn't get them in but that the line wasn't that long. They all, very disappointingly agreed to wait like the rest of the commoners.

But then, I went from the biggest douche on the planet to the coolest guy that ever lived. It went a little something like this: The doorman/bouncer walked up to me at the end of the line and the conversation went as follows:

Him: "Weren't you in that play, 'Cobb?'
Me: "Why yes. Yes I was."
Him: "You were really good in that."
Me: "Wow. Thank you very much."
Him: "How many people you got with you?"
Me: "Five."
Him: "Come on in."

And thus we were ushered to the front of the line and into the very exclusive and hip Bar 13. Much to the chagrin of those peasants who had to wait. (That is, if they noticed. To be honest, I don't think they were paying much attention.)

I would also like to mention at this point that if you've never had the pleasure of dropping a name and getting into a club, then you should do so immediately. It could very well be the greatest boost to an ego that was ever invented. It just says so much. None of which has to actually be true, but it does speak volumes. It says, "I''m connected." "I'm popular." "I'm cool." "I can make things happen." Now, in my case, all of those things are true. But for you, loyal reader, give it a shot. You'll feel better. I guarantee it.

We entered the club and it was a typical New York City scene. The bar is completely packed, the music is blaring, and smoke is filling the air. In other words, a truly perfect night. Some of us make our way to the bar while others go to the bathroom or whatever. My friend, "J," and the alleged porn star have somehow managed to have a moment to themselves to talk. It was then that he was finally able to get her to confess the truth. She was, in fact, none other than, Brittany Andrews, porn-star extraordinaire.

And thus began the ultimate throw-down of man vs man. Whether it was true or not, it's common knowledge that porn stars just love to have sex with random people that they meet on the street. I knew that. "J," knew that. Everyone knew that. However, only one could win. That is, unless we worked out some kind of, "arrangement." All that I can say for now is that the evening suddenly became phenomenally interesting.

And with that I bid you a to be continued.