After being a guest judge for the Lady Cat auditions, I've been anticipating the start of the Bobcats' season. No, it's not so I can watch the dancers, or even that I'm all that interested in basketball, but so I can go to the party that is a Bobcats' game. (OK, I do like watching the dancers -- because they're doing Brandii McCoy's dances.)
There are more than 30 home parties -- I mean, games -- throughout the season, and I'd attend them all if I could. Between the Rock the Rooftop Bar, FrontCourt Bar, BackCourt Bar and every bar in between, the arena is a dome of nightlife. Not to mention the action on the court -- between the Bobcats, Lady Cats, Rally Cats and Rhythm Cats -- there are so many cats I feel like a crazy cat lady.
My friend invited me to the game with the promise of the "best seats in the house," or rather, arena.
After we got our beers, we took a sip to avoid spillage on our trek down the steep stairs to the front row where an attendant randomly handed us a stack of napkins despite the fact we managed not to spill. We were having trouble finding our seats, so we called on an usher who had to lift up a chair from the second row of the player's bench to escort us to two chairs on the court -- two chairs down from Coach Larry Brown's.
While we were basically crawling over the Bobcats players in suits (as opposed to those suited up), my friend slipped and fell on the slick floor. Oops! I wanted to tell her no one saw, but there were camera men at every angle. Once we sat down, I felt like I needed to keep my feet tucked under my chair in fear of tripping one of the players.
Seeing as how I was basically sitting on Coach Brown's lap, I didn't think it was exactly appropriate to have a giant beer in mine. But it cost $8 and I wasn't about to let it go to waste -- so I put it in my purse and tried to discreetly pull it out during a time out when I thought no one was looking. Then, there I was on the Jumbo-tron sneaking a sip of beer.
At halftime, as I crawled over the row of chairs, I accidentally stepped down directly onto Michael Jordan's foot. Again, oops. Then, as we walked past the player's bench, my friend tossed her empty beer and our influx of napkins into a pop-up bin that we both assumed was a trash can. But as it turns out, it was the towel bin. Once again, oops.
Cason-Point: The best seats in the house tend to cost a lot; in my case, it was my pride. But if I weren't so close I probably wouldn't have recognized Adam Morrison with his clean crew cut.
For more nightlife adventures from Brittney, visit our music blog Vibes at www.qcvibes.com.