![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
Wherein I got inside (!), got down then up on a subwoofer, and as it turns out, photographed along the way.
First of all, I'm not twenty-one. This should've exempted me from the festivities right off the bat. However, in thanks to A, the resourceful goddess that she is, and Pam, the generous provider of the abetting end of things, I had in hand a borrowed Arizona driver's license. I'd memorized the address, birthdate, even made up a county name for Phoenix should I be quizzed, but knowing my track record with lying/sneaking/espionage, I was still nervous. The girls in line were fabulous - we ran into
nothinggold finally, who'd gotten woefully lost Wednesday night; two girls from New York ahead of us were grand fun, and one of them even reminded me that they might ask my Zodiac sign, which amongst ourselves we decided was Sagittarius. We talked fandom and life and generally had a great time passing the hour we spent waiting outside.
Several men walked by and remarked that they've never seen so many women lined up for a club before. A man stopped next to one of the ladies in line behind us and asked what we were all waiting here for. *NSYNC, she said matter-of-factly. His response: "Man, I wanna be *NSYNC when I grow up." Quote of the night, at least.
Aah, the getting in process. There was this hilariously disarming gent dressed in drag at the velvet rope, which helped a lot. But when I walked up to the suited bouncers who were checking IDs, I felt the tingling begin in my fingers. I hand him the license - he looks at it, squints, then says something. I honestly didn't hear him the first time because the music from the club behind was blaring so loud. I thought he said something about it not really looking like me so I launch into this whole thing about how it's the first license I ever got and I still have it and I was sixteen when the picture was taken - the basic too much information spiel that always gets you into trouble. So he repeats it for a third time, and I honestly have no clue what he's saying, the words aren't making sense in my brain I'm so numbingly nervous, when Amy puts in with 'You're not gonna give her a hard time, are you?' He smiles at her, smirks at me, and hands back the license, waving me through. There's every possibility he knew it wasn't mine, but if that was the universe granting me clemency in one instance, I'm glad it was then and there.
First stop, the bar. What do I know about mixed drinks, right? So I turn to A, who advises me to get a Long Island Ice Tea on account of its simplicity. Hot fucking damn. The glass wasn't very big, but it was 7/8ths alcohol and then the tea flavoring. I was almost on my ass after half of it. She smiled and patted me on the head and told me she thought I needed it. Probably right.
The dance floor filled up quickly. The club was surprisingly small, and the music was definitely not my style, but really, I was recognized as a legal adult for the night and had an obscenely strong drink in my hand - not much was wrong with my world. The VIP section was basically a walkway overhanging the main floor with its own little rooms off to the side and a large lounge toward the front of the club.
Now, while I was at Challenge last year, this was my first time really seeing the boys in real life, so what follows are the first impressions of an awed newbie.
JC was the first to show up, causing quite the stir. We recognized him by the hair, left loose and long at the nape. He was wearing some fitted sleeveless fuschia thing, shockingly. I was reminded that he looks even more wonderful in person, every bit the sunny dork he is in photos and footage. The entire dance floor was only vaguely working it as we watched him schmooze.
Joey was next, and in true fashion, took the opportunity to distribute bead necklaces among the teeming crowd. He, too, looked fantastic - he's lost a bit of weight, still has the eyebrow piercing, and looked tan and happy. The man is positively disarming when he smiles, which to our happiness was toothy and often. Most of the rest of the night he was seen at Kelly's side, being generally adorable, fetching her drinks and such.
Lance showed up quite suddenly and unexpectedly at the balcony railing right next to us to greet Wilmer Valderama and Danny Masterson from That 70's Show. He looked so good! All smiles and happy and his hair was a little longer than it's been and his cheeks were already flushed. He was wearing a white Oxford-style shirt with the sleeves rolled up, jeans, and came accessorized with a drink which he, admirably, managed not to spill. We only caught brief glimpses of him after that, but he seemed wholly uninterested in the almost entirely young female crowd below, unlike some of his cohorts.
I seem to have managed to entirely miss our good Mr. Kirkpatrick. It'd been a while since I'd been dancing, so enjoying that despite the mostly dismal music was priority one after the JoLa cuteness. We all have our vices.
We went back to the bar to get a second round. The bartender called me 'baby' when I handed him the money for A's drink. Normally, I don't like this word from guys as it tends to come off sleazy, but he was hot, the way he said it made me feel sexy, and it was just a Good Thing.
We actually took a break a little after that, as my feet were screaming willful neglect. I watched all manner of girls come up to the bouncer at the foot of the VIP stairs and say god only knows what to him, only to be inevitably turned away. And I'm sure some of them had every intention of making it worth his while.
Back to the dancing, which resumed as soon as Missy Eliott's Work It came on.
The entire house was most enjoyably brought down by a medley of Justin's songs, notably Rock Your Body, but the real crowd pleaser of the night was Like I Love You - the DJ had us sing 'just be limber,' 'sing a song with me,' 'cause we're here tonight' and 'I just wanna love you baby.' A and I were standing underneath the fog machine and they really let it loose a couple of times, where it got so thick I couldn't see the people around me. Absolutely everyone was on the floor. Excellent fun.
Somewhere during that madness, Joey made his way down from VIP with two bodyguards and Kelly to dance in the middle of the floor. I won't go into graphic detail about the way the girls behind him were rubbing up against him and clawing at his back, but yeah, I may have copped my own little innocuous, mild feel just before he was ushered off. Joey! He smelled really good, for those wondering.
I'd been eyeing these ingeniously-placed subwoofers disguised as raised platforms (for the sole purpose of girls climbing up on them and dancing) all night, and I seized my chance during Nelly's Hot in Herre.
And didn't get off for over an hour.
Apparently, I need not be drunk to dance well. I thoroughly enjoyed myself and entertained a few along the way, but yeah, surprisingly fluid and innovative. Somewhere along the way, A wisely realized I might well be dehydrated and brought water, but I ended up coming to her rescue when the guy went a little past innuendo to propositioning. So I put on my shoes, jumped off the speakers, took A's hand, leaned into the guy and said, 'Sorry baby, she's mine tonight,' bussed him on the cheek and led her off the dance floor. I haven't a clue where that came from, but damn I felt smooth. *g* It was about three o'clock, but we nonetheless elected to walk the seven blocks back to the hotel, got catcalled at least four times, and I don't think my feet will forgive me for it. Now my ears are ringing (dancing two feet away from a speaker as tall as me will do that) and my blackened feet hurt a bloody lot. Lots of water and sleep, I think. But after two power outages (they even claimed the second one was a block-wide thing, go us!) and four hours of dancing, oh, what a night.
And the WireImage photo. Hot damn! I had no clue my boobs looked that good in that shirt! Note to self. I'm the one inside the thinner white circle on the left wearing the red sleeveless top with my arms up.
giddyupnow is in the blue right next to me on the left.

First of all, I'm not twenty-one. This should've exempted me from the festivities right off the bat. However, in thanks to A, the resourceful goddess that she is, and Pam, the generous provider of the abetting end of things, I had in hand a borrowed Arizona driver's license. I'd memorized the address, birthdate, even made up a county name for Phoenix should I be quizzed, but knowing my track record with lying/sneaking/espionage, I was still nervous. The girls in line were fabulous - we ran into
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
Several men walked by and remarked that they've never seen so many women lined up for a club before. A man stopped next to one of the ladies in line behind us and asked what we were all waiting here for. *NSYNC, she said matter-of-factly. His response: "Man, I wanna be *NSYNC when I grow up." Quote of the night, at least.
Aah, the getting in process. There was this hilariously disarming gent dressed in drag at the velvet rope, which helped a lot. But when I walked up to the suited bouncers who were checking IDs, I felt the tingling begin in my fingers. I hand him the license - he looks at it, squints, then says something. I honestly didn't hear him the first time because the music from the club behind was blaring so loud. I thought he said something about it not really looking like me so I launch into this whole thing about how it's the first license I ever got and I still have it and I was sixteen when the picture was taken - the basic too much information spiel that always gets you into trouble. So he repeats it for a third time, and I honestly have no clue what he's saying, the words aren't making sense in my brain I'm so numbingly nervous, when Amy puts in with 'You're not gonna give her a hard time, are you?' He smiles at her, smirks at me, and hands back the license, waving me through. There's every possibility he knew it wasn't mine, but if that was the universe granting me clemency in one instance, I'm glad it was then and there.
First stop, the bar. What do I know about mixed drinks, right? So I turn to A, who advises me to get a Long Island Ice Tea on account of its simplicity. Hot fucking damn. The glass wasn't very big, but it was 7/8ths alcohol and then the tea flavoring. I was almost on my ass after half of it. She smiled and patted me on the head and told me she thought I needed it. Probably right.
The dance floor filled up quickly. The club was surprisingly small, and the music was definitely not my style, but really, I was recognized as a legal adult for the night and had an obscenely strong drink in my hand - not much was wrong with my world. The VIP section was basically a walkway overhanging the main floor with its own little rooms off to the side and a large lounge toward the front of the club.
Now, while I was at Challenge last year, this was my first time really seeing the boys in real life, so what follows are the first impressions of an awed newbie.
JC was the first to show up, causing quite the stir. We recognized him by the hair, left loose and long at the nape. He was wearing some fitted sleeveless fuschia thing, shockingly. I was reminded that he looks even more wonderful in person, every bit the sunny dork he is in photos and footage. The entire dance floor was only vaguely working it as we watched him schmooze.
Joey was next, and in true fashion, took the opportunity to distribute bead necklaces among the teeming crowd. He, too, looked fantastic - he's lost a bit of weight, still has the eyebrow piercing, and looked tan and happy. The man is positively disarming when he smiles, which to our happiness was toothy and often. Most of the rest of the night he was seen at Kelly's side, being generally adorable, fetching her drinks and such.
Lance showed up quite suddenly and unexpectedly at the balcony railing right next to us to greet Wilmer Valderama and Danny Masterson from That 70's Show. He looked so good! All smiles and happy and his hair was a little longer than it's been and his cheeks were already flushed. He was wearing a white Oxford-style shirt with the sleeves rolled up, jeans, and came accessorized with a drink which he, admirably, managed not to spill. We only caught brief glimpses of him after that, but he seemed wholly uninterested in the almost entirely young female crowd below, unlike some of his cohorts.
I seem to have managed to entirely miss our good Mr. Kirkpatrick. It'd been a while since I'd been dancing, so enjoying that despite the mostly dismal music was priority one after the JoLa cuteness. We all have our vices.
We went back to the bar to get a second round. The bartender called me 'baby' when I handed him the money for A's drink. Normally, I don't like this word from guys as it tends to come off sleazy, but he was hot, the way he said it made me feel sexy, and it was just a Good Thing.
We actually took a break a little after that, as my feet were screaming willful neglect. I watched all manner of girls come up to the bouncer at the foot of the VIP stairs and say god only knows what to him, only to be inevitably turned away. And I'm sure some of them had every intention of making it worth his while.
Back to the dancing, which resumed as soon as Missy Eliott's Work It came on.
The entire house was most enjoyably brought down by a medley of Justin's songs, notably Rock Your Body, but the real crowd pleaser of the night was Like I Love You - the DJ had us sing 'just be limber,' 'sing a song with me,' 'cause we're here tonight' and 'I just wanna love you baby.' A and I were standing underneath the fog machine and they really let it loose a couple of times, where it got so thick I couldn't see the people around me. Absolutely everyone was on the floor. Excellent fun.
Somewhere during that madness, Joey made his way down from VIP with two bodyguards and Kelly to dance in the middle of the floor. I won't go into graphic detail about the way the girls behind him were rubbing up against him and clawing at his back, but yeah, I may have copped my own little innocuous, mild feel just before he was ushered off. Joey! He smelled really good, for those wondering.
I'd been eyeing these ingeniously-placed subwoofers disguised as raised platforms (for the sole purpose of girls climbing up on them and dancing) all night, and I seized my chance during Nelly's Hot in Herre.
And didn't get off for over an hour.
Apparently, I need not be drunk to dance well. I thoroughly enjoyed myself and entertained a few along the way, but yeah, surprisingly fluid and innovative. Somewhere along the way, A wisely realized I might well be dehydrated and brought water, but I ended up coming to her rescue when the guy went a little past innuendo to propositioning. So I put on my shoes, jumped off the speakers, took A's hand, leaned into the guy and said, 'Sorry baby, she's mine tonight,' bussed him on the cheek and led her off the dance floor. I haven't a clue where that came from, but damn I felt smooth. *g* It was about three o'clock, but we nonetheless elected to walk the seven blocks back to the hotel, got catcalled at least four times, and I don't think my feet will forgive me for it. Now my ears are ringing (dancing two feet away from a speaker as tall as me will do that) and my blackened feet hurt a bloody lot. Lots of water and sleep, I think. But after two power outages (they even claimed the second one was a block-wide thing, go us!) and four hours of dancing, oh, what a night.
And the WireImage photo. Hot damn! I had no clue my boobs looked that good in that shirt! Note to self. I'm the one inside the thinner white circle on the left wearing the red sleeveless top with my arms up.
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)

no subject
Date: July 26th, 2003 10:27 am (UTC)JoLa!
no subject
Date: July 26th, 2003 10:54 am (UTC)JoLa! Whoot! Theirlovegoessowellwithsmokyclubs! Or something, anyhow.
no subject
Date: July 31st, 2003 11:41 pm (UTC)And yes, you *did* look absolutely splended in that shirt, m'dear. Whoo!
Though I sometimes wonder if the point of taking photos from above is just an excuse for the photographers to see how many shirts they can peek down...
no subject
Date: July 31st, 2003 11:42 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: August 1st, 2003 12:19 am (UTC)Thank you! I mean, I know it looked good, but damn. Thing is, I had about half the boobs when I first bought that shirt and haven't really worn it since, so good times all around.
On a different note, I totally missed JC swigging alcohol straight from the bottle, and this makes me sad. However, Laaance! With his pretty, flushed cheeks and flirty touching of the 70's Show boys! Lovehim.
no subject
Date: August 1st, 2003 03:47 pm (UTC)So happy to have met you and I really enjoyed our fabulous dinner. Also glad I was of a little help getting you into the Crobar...yay! :)
no subject
Date: August 2nd, 2003 09:17 am (UTC)Besides being grateful (I suck! So much!) I'm also very happy to have met you, and it was indeed a fabulous dinner. We'll all definitely have to plan to run into each other at the next gathering.