The night started innocently enough at Sarah's lovely holiday soiree, complete with festive drinks and crisp crudite. I only knew a few people at the party so before too long I got the itch to check out what was going on around town. After a few phone calls I was on my way to the apartment of the bassist of a pretty well-known band to meet up with a friend. It is at this point that things start to get weird. We headed out to R&R for a bit but before long said basist informed me that we would be going to meet up with his buddy Chris Kirkpatrick - as in the dude with the whacked out haircut from N'Sync! I can't say I wasn't intrigued but honestly who hangs out with that guy?? When we meet up with Chris he is surrounded by a gaggle or girls and body guards and everything is happening in a haze of hooka smoke. I definitely had a conversation with the man of the hour but I don't think it helped change my opinion of him at all. I think it might actually have made it worse. At this point the bar was emptying out so we headed to the "after-party" at CK's hotel (I am embarrassed just writing that sentence). People came in and out, I had hundreds of pointless convo's about the state of the music industry, told said bassist that I thought his band sucked (he agreed) and was finally driven home by one of CK's security team who told me lots of great Olson twin horror stories.
Was forsaking sleep to hang out with CK and his body gaurds worth it? Ask me when I end up in the liner notes of his next solo album. Holla!
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