Written by Crissle | @Crissles
I showed up at Bagatelle last night to cover Nas‘ album release party for ‘Life Is Good’ on behalf of Crunk + Disorderly prepared for only one thing – unlimited Moët. As an Oklahoma girl who just relocated to New York City six weeks ago, I’ve never been to an industry party and the biggest celebrity I’ve ever been within ten feet of is Toby Keith. So I decided to go with an open mind, a fully charged phone, and a two drink maximum just to keep it classy.
I arrived exactly at 10:00, made it inside by 10:30, and was half-drunk by 10:45. Girls dressed like Kardashians stood at the entrance, smiling and holding trays of miniature bottles of Moët. Two drink maximum? Whoops. Yes I sure will take one, thank you miss. And yes I sure will take another. Y’all are so sweet.
Waiters buzzed around the room offering appetizers I’ve never seen before, but since I didn’t want to drink on an empty stomach (and rarely turn down a snack) I ate them anyway.
Everyone there seemed to know each other but people were surprisingly friendly, breaking into big smiles when I told them I was present on behalf of Crunk + Disorderly. “Really?” said one girl, motioning to her friend. “I love that blog!” I smiled and kept drinking.
The night passed on fairly uneventfully for about the next hour. I saw Teyana Taylor, who is really quite gorgeous in person and very graciously let me take a picture; Jermaine Dupri, who bless his heart is shorter than I am; and a few people I THOUGHT I recognized but couldn’t be sure. Like, is that Wale or the weed man? Is that Anthony Hamilton or the dude working the bathroom? That went on until I noticed a break in security around VIP.
VIP was the roped-off area where extra super special people ate a private dinner earlier that evening. When I first arrived, the ropes were still intact and a few security guards were posted around it, but as the evening wore on the guys either got over it or enjoyed one too many of those miniature Moët bottles, because I was able to squeeze my ass in there just like I belonged. All around me, people were holding iPhones and cameras in the air and taking photos. I had no idea what they were photographing but since my mama didn’t raise a fool I put my phone in the air, kept pushing forward, and kept snapping pictures. Not until I got several feet closer did I realize that I’d been taking pictures of Nas and Jay-Z the entire time.
I admittedly don’t keep up with what’s latest in hip hop relationships but I had no idea that Nas and Jay-Z were even on speaking terms, much less friends. Since I now had an unobstructed view I kept taking photos and kept moving closer. People around me began to frown and I heard one man say “Who is this girl?” I put my phone down and picked up another drink in an effort to not get kicked out, all the while moving ever closer to where Nas and Jay stood behind a table. Soon I was standing directly next to Nas and, unable to deal with the pure adrenaline in my system, pulled my phone back out and took and photo of him and Jay, who were literally near enough to reach out and touch.
“Damn!” Jay said. “You close!” I DIED. I DIED RIGHT THERE. MY GHOST IS WRITING THIS RECAP. Jay-Z spoke to me. Yeah he was annoyed but HE SPOKE TO ME. I put the phone down, said “I’m sorry, Mr. Carter”, and extended my arm for a handshake. He looked at me, transferred his drink from one hand to the other, and then shook mine. I felt my knees buckle but before I could completely embarrass my mama by collapsing in a fat pile on the floor, Nas put his arm around me.
Nas. Put. His. Arm. Around. Me. I’m not even straight but listen. The man is beautiful. Smelled nice, gorgeous teeth and skin, dressed like that million dollar child support order don’t mean shit.
He then leaned in closer to my ear and said “You gotta move around, baby girl.” I GOT KICKED OUT! Never have I ever been ejected so sweetly. No one even escorted me away – I left gleefully. “Okay!” I said, like Nas and I were very best friends and this was no big deal. “Okay!”
I did leave the VIP, but after going back to the general area the party just wasn’t the same. After about twenty minutes I returned to VIP and squeezed myself right back into the same position I’d been in before. Jay-Z was gone, Nas either didn’t notice me or didn’t care that I was there, and Chef Roble was wearing a Boy Scouts shirt, surrounded by beautiful girls and half-consumed glasses of Moët. I asked him for a quick picture and he offered to do me one better by taking it with me. The girl who took the photo told me that I needed to clean my camera lens. Silly, stunning model, my phone is raggedy and that’s as good as the picture is going to get. But thank you girl! I decided not to press my luck further and left.
All around I could not have asked for a more perfect experience.
Thanks to Fresh for allowing me to attend on her behalf and drink up all that classy champagne. I didn’t even have a hangover this morning.