I woke up today at an ungodly hour after a massive hangover/recuperation from this weekend's frantic schedule/binge realizing a few things: One- I have completely abandoned this blog to the ennui of winter and need to regroup with people that want to read the occasional literary romp that shed light on Chicago's self-indulgent party scene as well as look at our pretty pictures. There's certain perks to our job and its only fair we share the wicked fun shit with everyone we experience. I am guilty of being an introverted 16 year old for the last six months, alone in a love lost with puppy dog drug filled eyes wonderin what happens next. Item number two- After Conan O'Brien's farewell speech, which reinforced how I feel about being cynical, I am determined to take these old bones and cover them in a fresh new sinewy attitude of optimism and hope whilst our world spins periously out of control. This year's first victim of my reinvigorated joie de vivre was Jenni Woww from MTV's mega-smash "Jersey Shore".
There had been a lot of speculation around the appearance of Jersey Shore's Jwoww and Snooki after they canceled to remain in LA the week before from their appearances at Manor and Rino.. Though I have never seen the show, you can't surf the web or see a magazine without some reference to the mega-sensation that is the Jersey Shore. To me, Jersey Shore is an evil place where a teenage boy told me in 1981 the day after I saw the Empire Strikes Back that indeed Darth Vader was Luke's Father. While Snooki opted to attend P-diddy's 16 year old's Sweet-Ass "Got my Maybach" Sixteen, Jwoww and her boyfriend Tom from her hometown came to the a suprisingly balmy Chicago and joined the LGN group's Lauren D. and myself for dinner at the Viagra Triangle's own Tavern on Rush. Despite the hemmoraging crowds in NY that resulted in a few arrests for disorderly behavior the night before, we were more than surprised to hear that just the two of them would be our guests that evening. Usually these things can spiral out of control before reservations are confirmed with agents, hanger ons, douchebags and managers. Instead, it would be an intimate dinner of four strangers, two of whom had never even watched the main attraction's show.
One of the biggest problem's going into a situation like this is the initial awkwardness. Jwoww had just been on a whirlwind tour of LA and NYC with guys like Leo DiCaprio coming up to her and taking pics and citing the lingo of their reality/sitcom. So imagine the surprise behind their calm eyes of coming out of their hotel suite to find two yahoos from the MidWest waiting with a taxi cab, one of whom is wearing eyeliner and sparkling sapphire shoes and neither who had any knowledge of the show's antics. Ok, Lauren was wearing eyeliner too. Moving on...
Lauren and I are no strangers to celebrity in our fair city but we were more than excited about Jwoww because of the debauchery displayed by the fans who showed up the week before. I personally was horrified at the blatant displays of fist pumping, pussy grinding and vodka breath that permeated the room at Manor when Snooki didn't show. It was a blight on my swollen spine and aching elbow, fighting these little fucking monsters for two hours as they demanded to be immortalized on the internet. The choice demographic proved that they didn't care about my old age...they would party harder than anyone in honor of the MTV superstars, despite the void of the show's stars.
So when the phone call came earlier that Saturday to attend dinner with Jwoww I knew I was in for something. I had to do a little homework and found a website of an ambitious girl who resembled my slightly accented, tough talking, and down to earth friends from Bridgeport or Harlem Ave . And at dinner, it was all confirmed: There was no pretension, no judgment- Only laughter, commonality and heartfelt friendship. She's like a character out of a Bruce Springsteen or Billy Joel song- just making a living, doing the best she can do and not stepping on anyone in the way. For once, dinner was not filled with people twittering or texting. We all ate and listened to each other like new found friends and I believe we all surprised each other with the ease of our time together. The subject matter of conversation is something left always to be left at the dinner table unless you're a gossip columnist, but the impression is what matters the most. And this is what I've told people for two days: Jwoww rocks and deserves anything she wants.
However, I can say that the stick of Porterhouses and Fillets had a convincing measure of making us want naps, oral sex or more drinks. That being said, the kids from NY went to the hotel for a lay down and I joined Tiger Woods mistress #3 Jaimee Grubbs for some much needed....drinks. Thought I was gonna say oral sex, didn't ya?
More to come on the dinner series...
Thank you to the LGN Group for having the continued belief that I can bring something to their increasingly amazing company and to David, Tom, Morgan, Aaron Collins, Lauren, Irene, Jaimee and of course my new favorite MTV girl, Jenni Woww.
(Yes, That's Jaimee with a Tiger Woods GatorAde!)
(Snooki's mortified but pleasant mother Helen is to the left...)
