Planet Nancy

So as my car is whisked away by the valet at Nancy's condo's driveway, I’m standing there completely dazed from the insane drive I'd just completed as one of Nancy’s friends arrives simultaneously. He helps me with my bags and takes me upstairs while Nancy finished a walk with her beloved four-pawed companion of 7 years, Raven.

We get upstairs and immediately pop open some wine and snack on olives, cheese, salami and crackers. I am informed of our itinerary for the evening - which would include three more friends joining us at “Hard Rock”. So I’m thinking no big deal - Hard Rock Café Hollywood, cool - I’ll bring home a souvenir glass. Low key, typical night out for me.

WRONG. Couldn’t be MORE wrong, in fact. Honestly I don’t know what I was thinking - I mean - this is NANCY for crying out loud. Nancy doesn’t do anything “typical”. Including, most especially including, going out and painting the town red.

I’m told that nothing really gets started at Hard Rock until at least 11. How long has it been since I “went out” and was home AFTER 11:00 I thought - ? Friends, it’s been A WHILE. Getting started on a night out at 11:00PM was like visiting another planet. Let’s call it “Planet Nancy”.

So I take a shower, have some more wine, meet the friends who would accompany us on our night out. It was a mixed bag - a younger couple who were very friendly, a girlfriend who I found out had recently turned forty and in Planet Nancy fashion was still celebrating a good 3 weeks afterwards, and Nancy’s guy friend who cooks professionally, so I automatically had a soft spot for him. All in all - a very fun group.

We set out in Nancy’s brand new gorgeous Acura (seats 8) and drove to the Hard Rock Resort and Casino where there seemed to be a hundred different restaurants and bars in this massive complex. We valet park and all of us jump out, and walk over to a bar that I can’t remember the name of, but it was something like “Pangyee” (pan-jee) - all I could think of was monchichi (mon-chi-chi mon-chi-chi - oh so soft and cuddly) - anyway… Of course there was a line to get in - but on Planet Nancy, “we NEVER do lines” so we walk up to the VIP entrance, Nancy and her entourage, and we are led inside after a brief confirmation of our VIP status and table reservation.

Many years ago Nancy told me, “you’ll never be a VIP unless you act like one” so I just kept quiet, shoulders back, head high, making eye contact with everyone but no one - I‘m sure it was a pretty funny sight, I mean, as if. We proceeded to our “table” which was more like an open booth with comfy sofa seating and a couple of cocktail tables, set back from the main walkway and dance floor. We were swarmed by servers and hostesses falling over themselves to bring our drinks and see to our relative comfort. The arrangement is that with your $500 private VIP table, you get one bottle of liquor and all the mixers you require. Certainly you can order more if you wish.

Shortly after getting settled I must have looked slightly disconcerted as Nancy proclaimed I needed to loosen up. I tried to explain that the 12 hour drive probably had something to do with it, the fact that I had not packed anything suitable for South Florida night life (not that I could have even if this trip had been planned with more than 18 hours notice seeing that I don’t actually OWN anything suitable for South Florida night life either) so I was a little uncomfortable in my all black yet mis-matched ensemble of black t-shirt, black skirt, black tights and black shoes and carrying one of Nancy‘s Louis Vuitton‘s because my new $500 Coach bag didn‘t go right.



Or perhaps it was the music that I wasn't crazy about (still prefer a head nodding 90's techno beat) or the club scene in general that I haven't been a part of for, oh, about 10 years, but I was trying to “loosen up” the best I knew how. The nice bottle of Grey Goose and plenty of Cranberry juice and limes helped I think.

After all, I thought, the VIP hand-stamp we received upon entering the club read “VIDA” - which - if my limited Spanish is correct it means “life” or “to live” - as in “Living La Vida Loca” (living the crazy life) by that guy, oh what’s his name - the Mexican Marky-Mark…? Anyway, I used it as a constant reminder to loosen up, all night.

At 2:45... Yes… 2:45AM - I was really DONE. I looked around and found myself sitting alone at the table as everyone was either on the dance floor or in the ladies room. I went outside the club for some air and was leaning up against a large planter for a couple minutes and watched as hoards of scantily clad party-people cruised by, seeing and being seen. I “drunk texted” Gary and said, “Get me outta here” - which was probably not the smartest thing to do (when is drunk-texting, like drunk-dialing, ever a good idea?).

But all of a sudden I saw Nancy standing outside the ropes talking to the manager-looking dude. I stood there, leaning against this planter just watching, thinking to myself, oh - there’s Nancy. I wonder what she’s doing? But after several minutes I realized this was not idle chat going on, so I stumbled over to see what was the matter. On Planet Nancy, there is never, I repeat, NEVER a dull moment.

It turns out that a couple of girls had somehow chosen our private table to become squatters in (I mean that in the property stealing way, not the bathroom way), and had caused a smidgen of trouble. When Nancy had gone to the ladies room, they followed her and starting slinging insults at her. Anyone who’s been to Planet Nancy knows - DO NOT SLING INSULTS AT NANCY - you will live to regret it. So basically these girls in wife-beater tank tops were calling Nancy (and by default - her entourage) “white trash with boob jobs and botox”. EXCUSE ME?! How many white trash chicks do you know who get botox injections and boob jobs? So on the one hand, being insulted by someone saying you look young and vivacious isn’t exactly an insult, right? But still - it was meant to be harsh and mean. So of course push comes to shove, literally, and then one of the girls BITES Nancy. What the hell????? Yes, somehow Nancy’s right index finger ended up in this girl’s mouth and she BIT her, breaking the skin on BOTH sides of Nancy's finger.

So back to me stumbling over to Nancy and the manager - I see that her finger is wrapped in paper towels and I ask what happened. She unfurls the paper towel to reveal a large clump of more blood soaked paper towels and then shows me her wound. She recounts the story, and by this time she has the full attention of the management, security and paramedics, meanwhile the 2 girls who assaulted her run out of the club and get away.

By this time the rest of our group has found us outside and so there is another re-telling or two of the story, more confirming with the management - although they didn‘t feel it was necessary to comp the bill for the table which we all thought was ludicrous but we were too tired (and hammered) to press the issue, so we finally left.

On the way to the car we stopped at a doughnut cart and got two dozen freshly fried doughnuts and scarfed them down (I had hardly eaten anything all day, and was STARVED by this point - about 3:45am). We then decided to go to Denny’s to eat. I have NO IDEA how long it took us to get to Denny’s, but when we sat down it was 4:15.



We ate breakfast - then staggered out and got back to Nancy’s at freaking 6:00 am. Now, mind you, I got up at 6:00am the day before, hit the road at 7, drove 12 hours, then went out for a night on the town - IN ONE DAY. Naturally I went straight to sleep, and didn’t wake up til 2:30 Sunday afternoon.