This is going to be a fun little entry for me. It's long and I need a bit of a preface is needed in order to understand where I'm going with this. If you turn back at anytime, I don't blame you. I'll try to spice it up later.

I went up to Park City to see a concert as part of the Sundance Film Festival music series. On Monday, it was Nathan Larson (music composer, worked on movies like Desert Blue and Boys Don't Cry) and his wife, Nina Persson of The Cardigans. Two other fans were there, we chatted, then chatted with Nathan and lamented about how Tuesday night's (Shelby Lynne plus them and many others) show was exclusive to people with passes. He took our names and said he'd put us on his guest list.

Now, I was skeptical. I thought he'd forget, or lose the haphazardly torn corner of slick glossy paper we had scrawled our names on. I didn't want to drive 30 miles each way to find out we couldn't get in. Fortunately, one of the other guys there called me and said that he got in. Unfortunately, it was 6, and the show only went from 6-8. I went up anyway despite knowing I'd miss an hour. I arrived as Shelby was being greeted with massive amounts of applause and Nathan and Nina and Joan Wasser of Joan As Policewoman were about to take the stage. I didn't speak to Joan the night before. She seemed intimidating.

So there's the backstory.

We watch the show, I take photos, it's a lot of fun, and afterward, we're (me and the two guys I'm hangin out with, also on the list with me) chatting with the artists in this really casual environment. A few minutes later, Joan walks over to us with her green bottle of alcohol and starts talking to us.

You could tell that she had been drinking a bit. She was relaxed and touchy-feely, and at ease around people she had seen the night before but had never met. She told me how my hair was by far the coolest in the room (I'd have to disagree. Chocolate Genius has a similar 'do and it's perfect. She also mentioned how awesome my shirt was. I was digging the compliments.

The four of us talked hair dye, clothing, religion, coffee, you name it we talked it. Then out of nowhere she asked if we were doing anything that night. We said no, and she said she had planned to hop (literally) over to a party across the street. She mentioned that it may be hard to get into, but told us very matter-of-factly to just, "talk your way in." According to her, her friend Paul was deejaying there that night.

Security (two guys who looked straight out of a Metallica concert circa 1991) nudged us out the door, and we told Joan we'd meet her across the street. We caught her with her gear outside the venue a few minutes later and wished her the best in case we didn't see her at the club, which by the way was called "The Prudential."

Why we waited outside of the place we had just listened to music instead of 200 feet down the street at The Prudential is beyond me. Maybe we felt we didn't belong.

Why?

The Prudential. Very upscale outside. It had velvet ropes, crimson carpets, even one of those backdrops celebs and athletes stand against with 50 of the same logo printed on it. In short, the works. It was then that I looked up and realized that the building "The Prudential" was actually a Prudential real estate building. I don't know if it's a new club with old signs or what, but it was odd.

We asked the Prudential people, and they knew nothing of a DJ, just a live band. We figured maybe Joan was confused. Maybe he was at a different club. So we stopped at about five bars and clubs asking the door men if we could go inside to find her. We didn't. So we headed back down, and one of the guys walked inside Prudential to look for her. Not there. At this time, I'm either thinking we've been stood up by a rock star or she was just too exhausted and/or drunk to go.

Finally, as a last ditch effort, I mention that we should go across the street toward the big mass of people to see if she was there.

The place had a guest list. A DJ inside. Upscale. Maybe this was it. But of course, we weren't on a list and they weren't going to let one of us go in to look for her. I don't know why, but suddenly a genius thought hit me.

"Um, guys? Could her DJ friend 'Paul' be Paul Oakenfold?"

We froze. I heard that the world famous DJ would be spinning up there at somepoint. I looked to the right, and sure enough, written on a chalkboard was, "Paul Oakenfold. 7:30. By invitation only."

Now, none of us believed that Joan knew Paul. But we believed that this was the correct place. It was across the street from Prudential, it was DJ Paul and it was tough to get into.

Suddenly the guys came up with an idea that seemed straight out of any television show of your choice. One of us would go up to the list guy and say one of our names while the other tried to catch a glimpse of a name on the list. If that didn't work, the next person would say their name until the three of us had spoke up. By three looks, it was presumed one of us would catch a name.

Didn't work. But they, more daring than I, tried again. One of them came back happy.

"I got a name."

"You got a name?"

"Yeah. Joe Cooper."

"Joe Cooper?"

"Yeah. It said 'Joe Cooper and party.'"

So I let them walk up thinking it wouldn't work, but lo and behold they got in. They called over to me and I scurried behind the velvet rope with our banded wrists.

I was at a by invitation only party. And what was the first thing I did after looking for Joan? Went straight to the gift bags, of course.

They were full of at least a half dozen CD's, a few magazines, a calendar, clothes and makeup. There were dozens of them. Needless to say, I grabbed two because everyone else had two.

We got our picture taken at the place and we're going to email it to her. She probably won't remember us or the night, but she's cool and if she reads this, I hope she drops me a line.

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