Green Day and Hollywood (sur)Reality

So, last Thursday I get invited to catch the sold-out Green Day show at the Henry Fonda theatre. In a rare "hollywood-esque" moment, my date gets us on the guest list. It’s much like the handicap line at Disneyland - infinitely shorter than the "regular people" line and they didn’t even pat me down for my camera (which i used to grab some very amateur video). Badassness.

I had gotten my last wisdom tooth yanked earlier that day. Only 2 shots of novocain and I didn’t feel shit. It rawked. I say this b/c I was hopped up on a bit of the Vicodin later that night (just in case the novocain wore off and I was suddenly in pain), so I couldn’t drink.

Green Day ends up playing the entirety of their new album (which came out today), front-to-back as they say. I dig it. Very good shit. Then, they do the whole encore thing and kick out the semi-old-school jams (like Longview)

The show ends. We’re invited to the after party. Again - badassness.

I’m sitting on a bench on the roof of the Henry Fonda theatre.
I can see almost all of Hollywood around us.
I look up… I see a blonde girl who looks frighteningly familiar.
She walks up to a U-shaped red velvet sofa where a bunch of dyed-hair freaks (my kinda people) are sitting, engaged in conversation.
She says "Hi everybody" to the group while waving her hand and smiliing.
They look up, and realize (as I do) who it is that stands before them
Paris "Media Whore" Hilton.
They immediately go back to their conversation and ignore her.

I remember thinking "fuck, man… I’m at a party that MediaWhore attends? How fuckin’ weird is that?"

Other random thoughts I had that night..

When I saw Richard Patrick, lead singer of Filter - I thought
"I should walk up and say ‘Would you take my picture…. cause I…. won’t remember?"

When I saw the guitarist of the Go-Gos, I thought
"I should ask her if she’s still got the beat"

I also strongly considered asking MediaWhore if she’d seen any good movies lately,
Or, getting a picture next to her, but making a horrifying face like I was standing next to a vlie creature (as I would’ve been). But - I didn’t wanna be "that guy" who takes pictures of celebrities at a pretty exclusive little gathering. So I didn’t.

The owner of the club came up to us (myself, my date, her friends - all of which, aside from me, had already met him before that night) and brought us to the bar - telling the bartender "anything they want - it’s on the house!". What a cool fuckin’ guy. Even told me that because I lived in the neighborhood and had to put up with the scientologists, I could call him if I "needed anything" (I’m assuming he means club-related things). It’s an offer I’ll likely never redeem, because I don’t feel comfortable enough in asking favors of an otherwise complete stranger - but it’s still a very nice gesture on his part.

It all felt very cool. Very surreal. I enjoyed it.

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