I'm one of those jaded individuals that rarely gets starstruck. I had a conversation with Halle Berry and didn't flinch (mostly because I didn't realize it was her), told Pink I didn't like her hat (this was during her "Can't Take Me Home" days), had reality tv stars thrown out of the bar and even had dinner with JP Calderon, various porn stars, Disco and Dance floor Divas, headlining electornica acts, you know the drill.
So, tonight we are hosting Frankie Knuckles at the club. For the record, I worship the man. He has done so much for the love of my life - dance music, that I was ecstatic he took the offer to come play Atlanta and namely WETbar. Well, he called me today as he was picked up at the airport.
"This is Arman."
"Arman, it's Frankie Knuckles."
"OHMYGAWD!"
"That was funny, your voice went up an octave."
Yeah, there's no regrouping from that. Frankie Knuckles now knows I could be a borderline stalker. And, I'm ok with that. (swoon)
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"In my world, every truth is judged solely on its entertainment value." ~JOSH KILMER-PURCELL (swiped from "I Am Not Myself These Days")
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- Arman R
- Generally, I don't tell people what they want to hear. Life is just too short for sugar-coating and euphemisms. I'm perpetually late, but will call to be courteous. I tend to be pretty laid back, but quite gregarious after a martini or three.
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