There's nightlife ... then there's nightlife so good that you literally make a night of it, and it turns into over-nightlife. Now I'm not talking about staying up all night snorting Red Bull, or doing the horizontal mumbo that results in waking up to do the walk of shame (or stride of pride as I prefer to call it).
I'm talking about adult slumber parties, such as camping. That's right ... camping.
Last Sunday I woke up on the ground, with the freshly risen sun shining through the screen of a tent like a spotlight, so hot it dried the layer of dew covering my body — while an off-key mockingbird was singing like a rooster. I'd gone country ... back to my roots. I roughed it for the weekend in the mountains surrounding Virginia Tech with my old college girls. And girls we were.
When pitching the tent after installing the poles, we realized their flimsiness made them good for fly-slash-spear fishing. So we proceeded to take them down to the river to fish, but then gave up after five minutes. Eventually, we got it up (the tent that is), and our temporary home stood even longer than the first two little pigs' homes did.
We retreated to the camp fire to have a little jam session with bongos and other unknown instruments — such as a stick with little jingle bells attached to it. We deemed this "Bells on a Stick" and proceeded to sing a song about it to the tune of the song "Pants on the Ground" ... "sounding like a fool with your bells on a stick" (you may had to have been there).
The worst thing about camping is the lack of water — to drink and bathe in. So we took our water bottles and had a water chugging contest. I felt and looked like a hippie … I was wondering if bugs were flying toward me because I smelled so bad. I started dousing myself in insect repellent hoping it would make my skin and blood a little less appetizing for the insects. Kinda like dipping a wing in blue cheese ... the condiment just ruins the flavor.
I've been obsessed with camping since and have asked around and scoured the Internet for places to go camping in and around Charlotte. And my research findings have led me to the conclusion that there aren't many places to go camping in or around Charlotte.
There's a campground in Carowinds, and being the home of NASCAR, there are countless RV lots. There are places to camp on Lake Norman, but it's illegal ... I'm not sure if taking a nap or passing out counts under that law, though. But it is legal on Lake Wylie — there's the McDowell Nature preserve and KOA in Fort Mill. There's also King’s Mountain, where I've been warned it's illegal to have alcohol.
Where else can one go camping in the concrete jungle? You tell me.
My friends and I wanted to go camping so badly last night that we got my tent that was conveniently still ready for use in the trunk of my car, and pitched it on the the roof of my Uptown parking garage … don’t try this at home kids. I got off lucky that the security guard in my building could be bribed with S'mores ice cream.
After BUTTER opened and started rivaling Suite as the hottest nightclub in Charlotte, I recall wondering what was happening at The Forum, and if nothing, then what was going to happen to it... well, now I know... it's closing.
The Forum is closing on Saturday, June 19 ... and they're not going down quietly, but with a bang rather.
Their blow-out bash will be held on Saturday, June 19 with Miami's DJ Craze. So go say good-bye to the three level nightclub equip with a rooftop garden terrace and ice bar top - where the likes of deejays like Tiesto, Paul Van Dyk and DJ AM have played, and Nelly and T-Pain have performed. That night they'll have extended hours as well so the service industry can say goo-bye too.
Bye Bye Forum, thanks for all the good times ... and for throwing me my 26th birthday party!
I would say I'll miss you, but I know you'll be back, reincarnated and reinvented. Because as in life, when one door closes, another door opens ...
“While this may be the last hooray for the Forum, we are very excited about our plans for the property located on the 300 block of College Street where the venue is currently housed. We have always prided ourselves on staying ahead of the curve and offering innovative entertainment options – our decision to close the Forum and forge ahead with a new concept is an extension of this philosophy," managing partner Andy Kastanas says in a press release.
To be continued ...
And for another installment of Brittney's random revelations ...
When a bar goes out of business wouldn't it be nice if they had a "going out of business sale" on the liquor the way retailers do their merchandise? Or even better, if a closing bar just equated to open bar.
I have watched the race at Charlotte Motor Speedway from the pits, the grandstands, the suites, in the infield on an elevated couch on turn one and from the roof of the National Tailgating League's motorcoach.
And then there’s the time I somehow ended up in Michael Waltrip’s motorcoach learning the Hannah Montana Ho Down Throw Down from his 13-year-old daughter. As well as in the Budweiser’s RV where the shower doubled as an elevator, which just so you know, will squirt water on you if you touch the shower head, which I learned the hard way.
Yet, the best place to watch the race (or drink while it’s going on) is the Red Bull Energy Station at turn three. Between the leather lawn couches, DJ, catering, cocktail waitresses and bartenders and big screen TVs airing race footage — they turn NASCAR into CLASS-CAR. And with the free flowing Red Bull and vodkas, Red Bull gives you more than wings ... it gives you a buzz! That, or the roar of the exhaust pipes that's so loud ear plugs are an essential accessory. I feel like they should invent a sign language for racing so that people can better communicate at the track.
Red Bull drivers Scott Speed and Brian Vickers tend to make pit stops in Class-Car as well ...
Between Speed Street, the Pit Crew Challenge, the National Tailgating League, the NASCAR Hall of Fame festivities and just Whisky River in general, when the NASCARnival comes to town it's a carnival of nightlife … but the biggest party is at the track, at the Red Bull Energy Station to be exact. I even got a little sun while I was at the track - cue to the red sunburn on the back of my neck. Does that officially make me a redneck?
No, I'm not giving away kitchen furniture ... I'm inviting a group of friends to join me at my VIP table (equipped with a bottle) for Denny Hamlin's party tonight at Butter.
In NASCAR, if you're not first, you're last — but I honor 32 e-mails, one for every car in the standard field of a Cup race. I'll put the first 32 people to e-mail me at brittney.cason@creativeloafing.com on the list. But the first place winner gets to go to Victory Lane with a group of friends — as in the VIP table where drinks are on me. Shake and Bake!
Green Flag!
And earlier in the evening, join me at Rock Bottom for a Sex and the City Happy Hour where I'll be giving out tickets to see Sex and the City 2.
Denny Hamlin went straight from spraying champagne in Victory Lane in Martinsville, to toasting champagne with Michael Jordan at BUTTER. I wonder if Jordan gave the broom the Orlando Magic used to sweep the Bobcats to Denny before he went on to sweep Darlington.
Tucker Max goes to a NASCAR race. And of course he found the hot girls there.
No, Brotha Fred and I are not dating ... we just hosted the Charlotte Style event together at Ballantyne Resort.
They say a picture is worth 1,000 words ... so I'll just let this one speak for itself:
Yes, that is Coolio and Rob Schneider, hanging out together at the Galway Hooker. While Deuce Bigalow was on stage at the Lake Norman Comedy Zone, the king of the gangsta's paradise was on stage at Uptown Ampitheater before coming to see Rob's final show last night. Now that is what I call: "Hip-Hop Anonymous" — and random.
YOU CAN DOOOOO IT! Rob proved that he really can do it — as in be as funny live as he is in his movies. Of course he performed his famous lines for us. His jokes were almost comforting in a sense — he was deriving humor out of things going on in the world that we otherwise stress over.
Rob is not just a great character actor, but he's also an overall great character — and perhaps one of the nicest, most down-to-earth celebrities I've ever met. (Despite the fact that he picked on my friend for getting up in the middle of the show to use the restroom. Why do comedians always hackle people for getting up to pee? ... when you make us laugh that hard you put us at risk for peeing in our pants — especially someone with a full bladder.)
There was another comedy show at the Hooker last night ... starring my uterus.
One of the members of Coolio's entourage announced after the show that I was his future baby's mama.
"Did he just call dibs on my uterus?" How does one respond to that? I don't know about normal people, but I gave him a lecture about how my uterus is not a vacant real estate lot he could fertilize. "Do you already have a baby's mama?" my friend asked him. No response.
A Comedy Zone is opening soon in Charlotte. I'll give you details as soon as they give them to me, but I did coerce them into giving me hints, which led me to the conclusion it may be heading to Elizabeth. Also, Michael Waltrip, who was in attendance, is starting his own comedy garage tour.
“The fact is, sometimes it’s hard to walk in a single woman’s shoes. That’s why we need really special ones now and then to make the walk a little more fun." ~Carrie Bradshaw, Sex and the City
I hate to disagree with Carrie, but sometimes walking in shoes is not all that fun. In fact, it can be downright torture. And not just the squeezed skin and achy arch feeling you get from a night out dancing that usually results in walking home barefoot carrying your heels. It can also cause serious damage to our back, tendons, and calf muscles. With Sex and the City 2 coming out next week, every night has been ladies' night as of late — and thus I've been out just about every night. But it is my feet, not my liver, that have have suffered. I was so sore last week I could barely get out of bed. And being stuck in bed sucks ... when it's against your will, that is.
The culprit: Shoes like the designer heels ones we give away at Strike and the City on Thursdays.
The cure: High Heel Therapy, a specialized form of therapy that targets the areas of your body that heels hurt — de-stressing the feet and preparing them ready for open-toed shoes too. But it's more about health than vanity: The High Heel Therapy massage releases the muscle tension and allows proper blood flow for firmer, stronger legs and increased energy. It will also stimulate lymphatic flow, which will release toxins that make the legs feel tired and heavy.
Now, we can have our shoes and wear them, too! Go see Jen at Drift Spa and Wellness.
And while you're at it, try a pedicure at Polished Nail Bar — which just opened a new location in SouthPark — and a detox foot bath at Haas Wellness Center.
Last night, I went to ladies' night at Club Blumenthal. As in Blumenthal Performing Arts Center's Girls Only: The Secret Comedy of Women.
And my womanly secret is that I laughed so hard I almost peed a little.
I call it Club Blumenthal because when attending one of the many live productions at one of the many theaters (so many I always get confused as to which one to go to), it's like going to a party. It's nightlife with culture. For the Girls Only reception before the show they had catering that I am pretty sure I devoured 25 percent of, a bar with a special Duchess drink and Ring pops. I always said that I would rather a guy propose to me with a ring pop than a diamond ring... seriously.
I can see why they say the play is for girls only - the two guys there looked like their girlfriends that brought them there also applied blush to their faces as well. But there were a lot of hot girls there - so it'd be a good place for guys to go pick up chicks and, in turn, garner some insight into women.
You got excited there for a second, didn't you ;) Well you can stay excited because let's be real - the Sex and the City 2 movie is going to be even better than sex.
I really am getting carried away because I'm also hosting the Sex and the City party at Rock Bottom the day before the premiere: Tuesday, May 25. What can I say, I love Sex ... and the City.
I showed up to the N.C. Music Factory on Friday afternoon fresh off the lake — wet swimmsuit, no make-up, hair a mess... seat belt tan from driving around topless — as in the top off my Jeep. I was headed to the CL office to make some copies. I literally went from being on a boat with my flippy floppies, to straight flippin' copies. I attempted to make this a covert operation by going through the back entrance so no one would notice that I made the executive decision to work up at the lake rather than the office. But when I rolled up at 5:30 p.m. my cohorts had already deserted their desks and were sitting on a day bed in front of the office... cause it was Friday at the Factory.
I thought I would be out of place with all my cohorts in work clothes ... but I didn't stand out too much - I mean, the cocktail waitresses were wearing bikinis and the factory had the ambiance of a Miami pool party.
Temperpedic mattresses on day beds, bottle service from BUTTER, beer from HALO and overpriced sushi from Nikko. It was cooler than Fridays at MAXIM when they would roll out a bar and make the interns bartend. I'd be doing an excel sheet and an intern would come hand me a vodka-cranberry. And then I'd mess up the excel sheets and have to re-do them on Monday.
Except with Fridays at the Factory no one was doing work, so I didn't either. I still have to finish making those damn copies ...
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