WARNING…SOME MINIMAL NAME DROPPING AHEAD, LOL
More than a few years ago I went to see Bon Jovi on New Year’s Eve. I went with my “best” friend at the time, the bassist in my band, who was dating a famous musician named Eric, the man who was producing our band. We were not only going to the concert, we had all-access back stage passes, as well as guest-list invites to the after concert party.
In planning for the evening, I went out and bought a nice new outfit – one I thought my date would enjoy. The guy I was seeing was an awesome guitarist in an up and coming band, worked at Rolling Stone Magazine and was quite frankly, totally incredible. It was also the first time in my life I’d had a date for New Year’s Eve, much less one who was smoking hot.
The day of the event arrived and my date came down with strep throat. I begged him to come anyway, but he said he was too sick. Additionally, when my friend came to hang out during the day, she told me that I had to get a better outfit. She said it was too typical and not the image we wanted to portray for the night. I personally thought the red leather mini and denim jacket was totally rocking. She said it was great for a club, but not for that night. She then called her boyfriend to get me a date. I felt like I had a big capital L stamped onto my forehead.
Off to the mall we went, in search of I what I didn’t know. After only a short time, a $1,500 white leather suit found its way into my wardrobe. Mind you, at that age, I don’t think my entire wardrobe cost $1500.
On the way home, I was then told that my date would be another member of Eric’s band, Bruce, if he could get to NY from I don’t remember where. I thought, “ok, this could be cool.” It ended up he couldn’t make it to New York in time so I was dateless that New Year’s Eve. (Let me know if you need a tissue to wipe your tears.)
I swallowed my pride, went home, showered, got dressed and traveled from my home in the NY Suburbs to Eric’s place in Manhattan.
Upon my arrival I saw that my friend was wearing almost the same outfit, only in black. I was so pissed off. We looked like the good and evil twins. (Side note – Her father called us the idiot twins.)
After a few minutes, Eric was done with his hair, and we left. We got into the fully stocked limo and were on our way to the arena. It wasn’t a very long trip, but long enough to down a few drinks and to be a bit happier than without liquid refreshment. At the arena, limos parked under the building and had to be admitted by security. Upon our arrival, we didn’t have clearance. We had to wait until the guard got word to let us in. Eric made a call and we waited. We waited and waited and of course I had to go to the bathroom. The more we waited, the worse it got. It got so bad so quickly that I was curled up on the seat. No one ever said I had any self control. A couple more calls were made and we were told it would be a few minutes more. I moaned and complained that I couldn’t wait. My friend told me to get out and go between two cars. I yelled at her that there wasn’t a chance in hell I was going to do that in a $1500 outfit (not to mention the $200 shoes). Eric said they would get out and I should go into a glass. My friend yelled at him saying she wasn’t going to get back into a car that smelled like pee. I wasn’t comfortable with that either, as I could hardly aim a basketball, much less do that in a confined space. (Bet you didn’t know the life of a rock star was this glamorous, did you?)
FINALLY when I was ready to call a nursing service for catheterization, we were allowed access. While looking for the bathroom, we passed the main dressing room and Eric decided to stop and knock on the door. Richie Sambora answered the door, and I almost died. Ok, not really, but that boy was hotter than hot. Jon then came to the door too and they all shot the breeze while I hoped I didn’t make a yellow puddle on the floor. He then introduced his girlfriend and me. He explained he was producing our band, said she played bass and I sang and then said “you’ll have to excuse us, Rikki needs to find a bathroom. She’s had to pee for over an hour.” ~ and that was my introduction to Jon Bon Jovi. Can you say ?
We found the restroom and it was CO-ED! Mind you, I have one of those shy bladders that will not release if anyone is within 100 miles of the bathroom. I decide I had no choice and tried. My girlfriend went into the next stall and pee’d like Niagara Falls. Upon hearing this, Eric asked, “Charisse, is that you?” to which she replied, “No, it’s Rikki.”
If it was possible to suck the pee from my urethra back into my bladder, that is exactly what my body did. There was no possible way I was going to do this. I finally told them to leave, stand guard and not allow anyone else into the room. The problem was that my bladder had now held it in for so long that it didn’t want to give it up. I finally unwound enough to trickle a bit and get the pressure off. It was like this for the rest of the night. I ran to and from the bathroom probably 20 times. I wondered if bladders could have mental disorders.
Although I was into much harder music, the concert was great. It was the “Slippery When Wet” tour. The band Cinderella opened the show (I couldn’t stand them, although the bass player was gorgeous). We watched from the side of the stage and then from the sound booth. It sucked because the sound booth was far from the bathroom, and I had to go back and forth. Security to the backstage entrance got to know me well.
At midnight, my friends kissed and then grabbed me and each made out with one of my cheeks, simultaneously. It was really sweet, albeit messy. They did manage to make me feel really special and it was fun.
We then departed the concert area to the party area. Two of the guys from Cinderella were being given a hard time because they weren’t on the guest list. Imagine ~ I was on the list and they weren’t. We got them into the party.
The food was great, the people were fun and the alcohol was free. After a few too many, I made out with some nameless guy with long blonde hair and then Charisse, Eric and I left. We stopped at a diner and they got entire meals to go. I got a muffin with jelly. (Who eats an entire meal after eating an entire meal?) The cashier in the diner told Eric he reminded her of someone famous but she couldn’t pin point who. He said he gets that a lot. She said I reminded her of Stevie Nicks. I could definitely deal with that too. We went back to Eric’s, they ate their huge meal, I saved my muffin for the morning and crashed on the couch.
Now that I’m just another brick in the wall, I wish I had not been too damned cool back then to take pictures. I wish I had documented more of my adventures. At least I have the memories and Facebook to reminisce with friends about those days.
Happy New Year to all and may 2010 be kind to your hearts and to your hips.
A Happy New Year Tale.
A photo of the now infamous white suit. Sorry the picture is so small.