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I get no respect I tell ya.....
Damn, what a week. First, there was my Rock Concierge Launch Party at
Alexis Park on Thursday, Feb 3rd. I was super excited because I had
booked the Backyard Babies to play -- one of my favorite bands and a
preferred band of anyone with an iota of taste in rock and
roll... sadly the fucking Agency Group,
Social Distortion's agency, put strict limits on the way I could promote
my party which did not bode well with my plans. You see, the Backyard
Babies is the direct support band for Social Distortion on their current
tour, a tour that was to kick off at The Joint on February 2nd, with
another 2 sold out shows on Feb 3rd and Feb 4th. Problem is, the
February 2nd show, technically the first show of the tour -- was the
LAST show the agency added to the schedule, so the 3rd and 4th shows
were sold out but there were still tickets available for the show on the
2nd. Because Social Distortion's agent decided to play politics, he said
I couldn't officially announce The Backyard Babies as playing my show
until after they played on the 2nd... why you ask? Because there were
still tickets available for the show on the 2nd and he didn't want the
announcement of my party to affect ticket sales -- PUHLEEZ! This is a
bullshit excuse and I know that better than anyone because when I worked
at a booking agency for an extremely powerful agent, I used to GIVE that
excuse to other promoters doing after parties like mine... the Backyard Babies are not going to
affect Social Distortion's ticket sales in Las Vegas -- no one in Vegas
knows who they are! While I find this sad, it doesn't really surprise
me, and the whole point was I felt like the rock scene in Vegas
needed to be introduced to this great band and that's why I wanted them
playing my party. I also had invited Social Distortion to the party but
instead they decide to go to BODY ENGLISH... are you kidding me?
My party was fun, the band was great, but the turnout could have been
better due to the lame way I had to promote it. Whatever, live and
learn. But then Social D going to Body English? I'm sorry, but any
street cred they had in my book is officially gone. You know you've
crossed the line to pricks when you sing about punk rock
values but afterwards drink a bottle of Grey Goose while listening to
bad mashups of AC/DC and 50 Cent.
I decided to take the weekend off and recuperate, so I did. Then on
Tuesday I went to The Stirling Club -- two events were happening at the
same time, and I had been invited to both. Unfortunately, when my lawyer
RSVP's for the both of us, I guess some dickhead wasn't doing his job
because we weren't on the list. Easily remedied, but still, annoying to
be disrespected by snooty old men security guards at the gate. Sorry I
don't have a Mercedes buddy.
I get drunk on Merlot and after a few hours of senseless schmoozing with
suits I make my way to my neighborhood bar to hang with the Hustla' and
his pals. We decide to accompany him to the Ghostbar where the Hustla'
happens to be the in house photographer for the N9ne Group. They
wouldn't let our friend in because he was wearing converse Chuck
Taylor's. Now, I've SEEN the crowd in the Ghostbar and seeing that we
were probably the coolest fuckers the dude had seen all night, I saw no
reason not to let the stupid sneaker rule slide. But Brad at the door
stood his ground. So I called a friend -- a friend who happens to be the
new director of customer relations for the N9ne Group. And once Brad and
my friend had a little phone conversation, Brad was singing a different
tune... the tune that goes "of course, of course, I'll make sure they're
taken care of." Now Brad, really, did we have to go through all that? I
don't like calling anyone out or pulling rank, but you've gotta work
with me here. Oh Brad, you disrespectful schmuck... you don't know what
kind of week I've had, so I'll let it go this time. Just don't let it
happen again sucka!
Now for the Coup de Gras....I have been working on a putting together a
weekly event with a certain nightclub for awhile now. This nightclub,
well let's just say they OWE me. If nothing else, they owe me some god
damn respect. I brought them at 10K party for Internext and bring in
rock bands and music industry types on a regular basis. In fact, it's
the only casino club I actually like, so I pretty much take everyone
there. I had been called in finally to take my "official" meeting with
the owner 2 weeks ago, and he said he'd have an answer for me on Monday.
Of last week. Since I was busy with the aforementioned Rock Concierge
launch, I didn't really think too much of it when I didn't hear back. I
figured I'd get in touch with him this week. Then, two days ago, I get
an email from a certain mainstream cheesy name dropping promoter whose
events I've never had fun at but I go to anyway to promote my stuff.
Apparently HE is doing a weekly event at this certain nightclub on the
certain day of the week I wanted to do MY night. Not only this, but he's
had this confirmed since BEFORE I even met with the club owner, yet the
owner, after everything I've done for his establishment, has the gall to
string me along anyway. Now I'm not gonna hate here because he did say
we could start mine off as a monthly and he didn't specify a day so
maybe I'll get lucky and he'll let me have a weekend night. But still,
come on buddy, I've been loyal to this establishment since before it
even opened and I bring them a ton of business. Show a little goddamn
respect. This incident has been infuriating me for 48 hours now, and I
see now signs of it letting up. I'll be at the party -- the one the
OTHER promoter is doing looking like a million bucks and gracious as
hell. Then if they still don't give me the respect I'm due, I'm afraid
sparks will have to fly... wish me luck.
I am feeling very disrespected this week and would like to warn all of
Las Vegas and surrounding areas to be very wary of me in this condition.
Consider this warning like you would consider a tornado warning, or at
least a tropical storm warning -- take it seriously. And be very very
nice to me, at least this week, or I cannot be held responsible for my
actions. Just ask my old boss. When I got to the point where I felt so
disrespected at my job I couldn't take it anymore, I threw a fit, busted into my
boss' office, and announced I was moving to Vegas. Since I've been here,
I can honestly say that old disrespected feeling has been elusive to me,
and for the most part I've been pretty jovial. Until now. So be nice to
me this week while I ride out my angst... because every one deserves a
little respect. Especially your friendly neighborhood Roxtar. Hey,
anyone can have a bad week, but when I own this town you'll be glad
you're on my good side. Oh what, you think I'm joking? You don't believe
me? Don't make me drop names buddy, don't make me have to call my
powerful friends who will vouch for my delightful blend of bitchiness
and tenacity that will eventually make all my dreams come true. Am I
gonna have to make a fucking phone call!? Just Kidding!
Rodney Dangerfield, wherever you are, I TOTALLY get it now.
-Ms. Korby
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