A funny story about Moby, a rock star, and Obama.

Okay folks, I've been saving up this story for awhile. Election night, 2008. All of New York City was wound up, waiting to see who would win this election. There were parties happening everywhere. I had secured an awesome invite to a party at Moby's house that evening. I wore a nice little dress to work. I even wore tights!

After work, my boyfriend needed to go cast his vote. I warned him it would take hours to do so, but he didn't believe me. While he was in a four-hour line, I got a call from Stephan Jenkins, an old friend. I hadn't spoken to him much in a year, so I was surprised to hear from him. Since I needed to kill time anyway, I decided to meet him. He was looking for a party to go to, but he happened to be standing in Moby's neighborhood when he called me, so I thought maybe we were headed for the same destination.

We met up for dinner at Teany. He showed up forty-five minutes late, still gabbing away on his cell phone. Folks, he's a rock star. He meets with you on his own time. In between calls, he begged to go to a different restaurant - one in which they served meat - despite the fact that he had kept me waiting with no apology or explanation. When I insisted on eating here, he told me to order him whatever I was eating, then he walked outside to get on another phone call. No hug, after a year of not seeing each other.

He came back in when the food was delivered. He took a bite and then commented on how delicious the gourmet mayonaise was (it was veganaise, out of a jar). He wanted to know how to make it. He proceeded to hit on the waitress for the next ten minutes.

I took that opportunity to ask him whether he was going to Moby's party tonight. He leaned over the table and said, "the party's off." I was pretty sure it wasn't. But he insisted the party had been cancelled because Moby decided to stop drinking (yes this is true - Moby did stop drinking). He looked like the wheels were about to come off. Amused, I filed this away to check up on later.

So after dinner, we headed to an MTV party on Houston St. I figured I would stay five minutes and then take off to meet my boyfriend at Moby's party. He didn't seem to have anyone else to hang out with that night - why, I don't know. When we got to the club, he pulled out a piece of paper with some girl's name on it. This woman came to the front door and escorted us in. It was a big deal. She gave him the royal treatment, walking him up the back stairs to the private upstairs area. It turned out, he was the biggest/only celebrity at this party. It was filled with people in cheap party clothes dancing to bad R&B music. I asked him how he heard about this party, and he said that his friend sent him here.

We sat down at a table for awhile. I don't like dance clubs, even on election night, so I started to gather up my stuff after ten minutes. But it turned out, I didn't have to spend much time imagining how to make a graceful exit. A security guard came up to Stephan and politely said, "this table is reserved." Stephan's response? "It's reserved for me, so f&*% off." As I sat on the couch, embarrassed and waiting for my very nice boyfriend to finish casting his ballot, Mr. Jenkins got into a shouting match with the security guard and then we got bounced. I had never been thrown out of a club before. It didn't feel so hot. He was shouting the entire way out. And then I remembered why I hadn't spoken to him in about a year.

So, later I found out the scoop on Moby's party. He was, in fact, uninvited to a party I was headed to. And why? When confronted, everyone passed the blame to someone else. Maybe this person or that person didn't want him around because of the way he treated his ex-girlfriend. He was described as the biggest bastard in the history of rock n roll by one person. But no one would fess up to being the person to uninvite him (please note, it was definitely not Moby - he doesn't know him). That night, I took shame and delight in the fact that my life is a lot like high school. Yes it is shameful, but I am one of the cool kids now. Cooler than a rock star. I actually get to go to the parties.