There’s no denying that I’m a huge fan of The Black Keys; however, for some reason fate always finds a cruel way for me never see them live. First, it was Lollapalooza and a whole dating debacle that made me miss out on one of my favorite bands of the past few years. Next up, the Kings of Leon show with The Black Keys opening up; which we arrived so fashionably late that we only caught the latter half of the Kings. Third time’s a charm, right? Ehhhh… kinda.
While still trolling the floors of MAGIC earlier that Valentine’s Day for some epic inspiration to write about, my friend, X texted me of a few of the festivities going on that night. Meh, meh, meh, and wait WHAT? No other party mattered in my mind, other than the AG Jeans ‘backstAGe‘ show and I spent most of my evening trying to finagle a way in.
Thanks to the wonderful Alyssa at the new glitzy Cosmopolitan Hotel, which hosted the event inside of the uber-club Marquee, I jumped in a cab and literally shrieked, “GET ME THERE AS FAST AS YOU CAN, I WILL TIP YOU IN HUGS & KISSES AND LOTS OF MONEY! HAPPY VALENTINE’S DAY!” Boy, you get what you ask for and I was in for one of the most death-defying cab rides of my life. A domino effect of tardiness kept occurring – late invitation, late cab ride, tons of shiny things inside the new hotel kept distracting me… Finally, I was in, was immediately handed a glass of champagne and had a pretty primo spot to finally take in the live sounds of new winners of a Grammy from the previous night. I had already missed out on the beginning of the set and was attempting to max out on listening, dancing, and people watching simultaneously. (My little eye spied: the Kardashian clan, who were hosting the party immediately following the show and the darling Mark Salling from Glee, who I tried to give whiplash during the Maxim Super Bowl party)
In honor of the band’s name, I wore all black everything – vintage Lillie Rubin sequined wriggle dress with a deep set back with my little leather jacket, my L.A.M.B. Fuck me shoes, and a YSL clutch that only holds the essentials. My cheeks flushed as this gorgeous man next to me kept smiling and eventually grabbed me at the waist while looking quite concerned. I had an incessant runny nose throughout the day during the trade show and didn’t think twice at the damp feeling. He did the club whisper/yell in my ear, “Your little nose is bleeding!” I lifted my fingers to my nose, and to much horror found that my right nostril was ruining my first chance of hearing The Black Keys live and quite possibly my Valentine’s Day with this beautiful newfound boy.
The sweetheart escorted me to the bathroom as I cocked my head back through the crowd of eager ears. My confidence plummeted to an all-time low as I mumbled profuse thank yous and apologies to him as I ran to stuff tissues up my nose, all Lesley Arfin “Dear Diary” style. The arid Vegas air had already taken a toll on my skin, now my sinuses, and to top it all off – any chance at romance on Valentine’s Day.
Bummed out that I really only got to enjoy a mere few songs, I took in what was left of the monumental show and vowed one day I’d see a complete Black Keys show from start to finish. I snapped a few pics on my phone as texts from a few gentleman callers drained the last remnants of any battery life left. Bloody nose, dead battery, and no beautiful boy… I made the decision to make an exit the moment the second party was starting and people were clamoring for the main Kardashian. There’s just not enough room for two Kims.
Thanks to the Cosmopolitan Hotel and to AG Jeans for throwing a hell of a show!
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