Music » Brittney After Dark

All Work and No Play ...

Everybody's working for the nightlife these days



Don't let the nightlife column fool you. I am no party girl Paris Hilton; I am a hustler that works so much I had to incorporate nightlife into my job in order to have a social life.

Just last Thursday, I literally worked for 20 straight hours between my jobs in commercial production, journalism and promotions. But I don't mind. The Charlotte nightlife scene works just as hard as its patrons -- there is always more to do than any one social calendar will allow.

Last weekend, I had to party in shifts to celebrate all the venue openings and season openers. I opened my weekend with the charity-oriented grand opening of Woods on South. In Woods' case, the term grand opening is quite fitting because Carolina Cuisine by Marvin Woods + freshly brewed Carolina beer = something grand.

Meanwhile, the Charlotte Checkers are having a 15-year anniversary party all season long, which started with two consecutive home games last weekend. The Checkers have a new look, a new batch of hot Checkmates, but with the same good time promised at the games.

What's cooler than being cool? Ice cold! Nov. 7 is Rock the Mohawk night; some players and staffer Rory went to Emerson Joseph and got mohawks in an effort to raise money for ALS awareness. Game tickets are discounted with a portion of the proceeds going directly to a Fort Mill native suffering from the disease.

All work and no play makes Britt a monster ... literally. I was a guest monster at Nightmare on Independence. When I got a text from the make-up man Martin asking if I had any allergies to latex, I knew I was in for an eerily eccentric experience. On my way to the make-up chair, I was a little intimidated entering a room full of people covered in blood, but the suicidal shower girl opened up to me immediately. When they told me I was going to be part of the freak show next to the Frog Princess, I figured I'd already had enough real life experience in it from the dating world. But when they suggested duct taping my legs together, I felt like I was on another bad date. An hour and a bottle of spray paint later, I was transformed into the skeletal Fiji Mermaid. I sat in a corner and awaited the haunted house patrons holding on to each other for dear life like they were in a conga line. Just looking at me scared them, which scared me a little bit. It was like being backstage at a theater performance. The cool ghouls are the actors, and the haunted house is the show.

It's all in a day's work.

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