Blackballed from Blackberry Party
With friends there and iVillage credentials to help get me behind the velvet rope, I really didn’t think crashing it would be such a big deal. But I didn’t realize I’d be dealing with ridiculously young PR girls who have spent their parents fortunes on boob jobs, hair extensions and Restalyn. All outfitted in short black empire waist of-the-moment dresses, they drooled unprofessionally at every celebrity who walked by.
As I waited patiently to the side after some small negotiations with the queen PR beotch herself, I watched her little protégés check in Ian Ziering. The single Ian loved the fact that these girls were ogling and even said “Hello ladies!” in a way that made it very apparent that he liked the eye candy. As Ian went inside, I was still waiting outside. And getting mad. Finally the queen bee came back and told me firmly “Sorry, the list has been closed. That means no entry.” She then put out her hand as if I was supposed to shake it. I shook my head, gave a grossly fake smile and walked out. I mean!
