Full moon crazie
Good day my beautiful people. Last night was a full moon, and, let me tell ya, it affected people. Them muthafuckas was full-on crazy at S4 and the Rose Room. I knew it was going to be a crazy night as soon as I got to work, and there were drunk people roaming the parking lot like zombies.
One guy in particular was staggering between cars, looking for his truck. He would take a few steps then have to grab onto whatever vehicle was close by. I tried to ignore him and just mind my own business.
I got about 10 steps away, turned and saw him go down with a loud “Ow!” I walked over to him, and he asked me if I’ve seen his truck. I said, “Sorry, I don’t know what your truck looks like.”
Then I gently asked him if he should be driving anyway and suggested that maybe he should Uber.
As soon as I said that I flinched, because usually when you mention anything about not driving to a drunk ass, they get super defensive. This guy just said that he was good to drive. He said he didn’t live that far, and he was fine.
As he was saying it, he fell forward and would have landed on his face if I hadn’t attempted to catch him. So, then he was sitting on his ass in the parking lot. I told him again that I don’t think it’s a good idea for him to drive, and once again, he insisted that he was good and that he didn’t live that far from where we were.
So I asked him where he lives. He said, “Irving.” I was like, “Dude, that is nowhere close to here. You really should call an Uber or go get some coffee or something. But you do not need to be driving in your condition.”
But he swore that he was “all good in the neighborhood.”
After a few failed attempts to stand, he finally got back on his feet. He insisted that he just needed to find his truck, and he would be fine.
By then, I was invested, and I was about to call security or someone who could help with the situation. In my head, I just see how badly this is going to end: Either he was going to jail before or after he caused an accident, or he would be headed for the morgue after an accident.
I asked if I could hold his keys while we look for his truck. Surprisingly, he said okay and started digging in his pocket for his keys. Then he gasped dramatically because he could not find his keys.
I was thinking, “Thank freakin’ Gawd! Now he hasta call an Uber.”
I said, “Oh no! You lost your keys? That’s awful. Gimme your phone and we will call you an Uber.”
He started digging in his pockets and gasped again: “Where is my phone?”
He literally started looking around for his phone like it might be in the same pockets he had looked in already. Then he drops to the ground and starts looking under cars.
I told him to get up and that I would call him a Lyft. I don’t have the Uber app. He starts to cry sitting on the ground and yells, “Why does this keep happening to me?” He looked like the cartoon Baby Huey about to have a tantrum.
I was done. I told him to stay right there, that I was going to get someone that could help.
As I turned to go find security, a truck pulls up next to us. He jumped up so excitedly and hugged me and said, “You found it! Thank you, thank you, thank you!”
I am so confused at this point.
The driver of the truck got out and yelled at the drunk guy, “Dammit Neil! I told you to stay where you were!”
Apparently, the friend went to get Neil’s truck and drive him home. The truck was parked on the street near Kroger. Drunk-ass Neil forgot that he already had a good friend trying to take care of him. I swear I rolled my eyes so hard you could hear it.
We loaded drunky into the truck, and they drove away. I have never felt so relieved.
But that was only the beginning.
Through the course of the night, we had random people just walk back into our dressing room like they owned the place. One poor lady, literally just walked into our dressing room and right into our bathroom.
I was standing at the podium on the stage when one of the girls grabbed me and told me that some rando just went into our bathroom and wouldn’t leave. It turned out that she was about to piss herself and found her way to our bathroom, ignoring everyone that was telling her, “Baby, you can’t be back here!” It took her a while because she was wearing complicated pants that had a bunch of fasteners and buttons. Plus, I am pretty sure she was a little inebriated.
Next was a lovely group of white ladies that got to the show late and decided that it was totally okay for them to just stand and/or dance in the middle of the aisle while I was performing. I sashay my big ass over and kindly ask all eight of these “ladies” if they would kindly get the fuck out of my way. The leader of this pack of privileged pretties then held up a wad of cash and shook her finger at me like, “Uh-uh! You ain’t getting none of this.”
I totally changed my whole demeanor and danced up to her, all while lip-syncing Pink’s “Raise Your Glass.” I shimmied in front of her as her entire group surrounded me. It had to look like I was being swarmed by ravenous zombies.
Then leader of this group of Karens — by the way, a group of Karens is called a Kracken. Yes, I made that up, but it fits — pulls a twenty from her wad and insists on stuffing it down my cleavage.
As soon as I got her money, I yelled for them to get the fuck outta my way and to clear the aisle. They completely ignored me and just kept dancing like no one was watching. But everyone was.
I ended up cutting my number short to get on the microphone and yell at the Kracken. I told them to look behind them: “You see those people that are sitting on the stools behind you? They got here early to get a good seat, and now you are blocking their view. So, ‘Move Bitch-Get out tha way-Get out tha way Bitch, get out tha way!’”
Then the entire audience joined in and sang with me: “Move Bitch-Get out tha way-Get out tha way Bitch, get out tha way!”
Then the bitches got out of the way.
Freakin’ full moon! I swear!
Remember to always love more, bitch less and be fabulous! XOXO, Cassie Nova
