I say that not because this post will be particularly clever or funny or mocky, but because I have SO MUCH to tell you about this Chicago trip that I’m quite certain it will be the longest post in Mock Dock history. So, if you’re interested, plan on staying awhile. If you’re not interested, just scroll down to the more tolerable bite-size posts that are typical of The Mock Dock.
Ok. So we started our journey on Tuesday morning at 10ish, and piled into Leroy’s giant tricked out Tahoe. Leroy, God bless ‘er, was SICK AS A DOG, but still totally psyched and ready for the festivities, and armed with loads of OTC drugs to combat funk symptoms. So off we went.
Naturally, we blasted the latest Britney Spears album pretty much the whole way there. We got to our hotel (Westin on Michigan Ave – just a few steps from Water Tower), threw our stuff in the room, and headed out to shop at H&M and Filene’s Basement before grabbing lunch/dinner at Ditka’s. We had absolutely amazing service at pretty much every establishment we patroned over this past two days, and Ditka’s was no exception. Food was delish, and our bartender/waiter was precious. We stayed there a couple hours and then went back to the room to prepare for the Mother Of All Concerts.
We had decided in advance to wear pink wigs to the show. Daisy’s was the short and sassy one, Leroy’s was the one which probably most closely resembled the one that Britney wore during her psycho days, and mine was just…ENORMOUS. Seriously – the biggest bunch of pink hair you have ever seen. There was trimming to do, and straightening, and detangling, and just general fix-upping of all three wigs to get them to look ok. Plus, we had to skankify our make-up as much as possible. So getting ready took a good 2.5 hours, because we’re girls, and girls spend a lot of time giggling during the readying process.
We donned our giant sunglasses, and headed down to get our car. To do so, however, required a loooooong walk through the hotel lobby, which happened to be FILLED with important looking business people, mostly men. You guys, I could NOT stop laughing. I mean, the stares. OMG the stares. It was like the longest walk of shame ever. Daisy was doing her best to lead us out of the lobby with the most badass face she could muster, but it was completely RUINED by Leroy and me giggling. We were the furthest thing from badass you could possibly imagine.
It took longer to get to the auditorium than we thought, because we are HOPELESSLY directionally challenged, but we arrived about 20 minutes before showtime. As soon as we walked in, we were greeted with people who were throwing release forms in our faces for us to sign so that we could be photographed and put on some Britney Spears website. They said, “You’re the first people we’ve seen with pink wigs!” which made us totally giddy.
Leroy was barely hanging on, what with her being at death’s door and all, and so we decided that alcohol would help her. Because of course it would. So we headed to the bar and saw that basically a thimble of alcohol cost EIGHT DOLLARS. And while we proceeded to kvetch like 75 year olds complaining about the crazy price of beverages, some precious girl came up to us in an angel outfit and said, “Would you three like to join us in the VIP lounge?” And we said, “Do we get beverages there?” because this was a priority, and she said, “Yes – there is a bar. We only invite the most devoted of Britney fans in there.” So we giggled to ourselves about that, because it so wasn’t true but we obviously looked the part, and we certainly weren’t about to turn down the offer, so we headed into the VIP area.
This was basically a really dark room with a bar and a couch and people playing Wii Bowling games. The drinks were a full THREE DOLLARS cheaper in that room, so we felt good about our decision to take the angel up on her offer. Plus, two completely adorable gay boys came up and fawned all over us and our wigs, and wanted photos with us, and so we totally felt like rockstars. But 8 o’clock was drawing closer, and we wanted to get to our seats, so we headed out, drinks in hand, to find our nosebleed section.
The Rosemont Auditorium, as it happens, has good seating all around. Plus, the whole stage is basically two giant circles, and all of the performers do their respective things all over the stage – so no matter where you sit, you see everything. Now here’s where the giant chunk of disappointment came in. Because Leroy, Daisy and I are painfully law-abiding, we followed the rules we read on the tickets which read in part, “You cannot under any circumstances bring cameras or recording devices into the show.” We should have totally broken the rules on this, because EVERYONE broke the rules on this. So as much as I hate to say it, I have no show pictures for you. The only thing that makes me feel better about that is that we were so far from the stage, I don’t know that my camera would have necessarily captured much, and since I’m a horrific photographer, I probably would have ended up with nothing but blur. However, we definitely would have had some good pictures of US shaking our respective booties, and so that totally bums me out.
At EXACTLY 8pm, that unmistakable deep bass drum from Dontcha Wish Your Girlfriend Was Hot Like Me started and the crowd totally ERUPTED. It was kind of awesome. We began to see a few more girls with pink wigs scattered through the crowd, and exchanged crazed, gleeful shrieks and waves with them. I have to say, The PCD’s were pretty great. Nicole Scherzinger can totally sing, and she does it live, and she does it while she’s essentially doing high impact aerobics. It’s amazing. They played for about 45 minutes, and then there was a slight break. You know, to build up to the Britster.
The show opened with a freaky and totally creepy video of Perez Hilton pretending to be some sort of bizarre circus person, and it was too loud to understand what he was saying but he looked absolutely demonic. And then….she arrived. And the place flipped. the freak. OUT. She opened with Circus, natch. She didn’t actually sing, natch. But I’m telling you guys, that girl knows how to put on a show. She’s like a ringleader. She calls the shots. She didn’t stop moving for two straight hours, and for the brief minute-long breaks in between songs, there was constant entertainment with Cirque de Soleil type of acrobatics from some truly amazing performers. There was not a SECOND to become bored, because there was just SO MUCH going on the whole time. I think out of the entire 2.5+ hours of the show, I sat for maybe 10 minutes of it. Leroy, God bless’ er, was fading fast and nearly passed out from exhaustion, but even she managed to get up and shake her bon bon for Toxic and Hit Me Baby One More Time. I think it’s a federal offense to not dance to some of those classics. I could be wrong about that.
I’m both pleased and disappointed to report that there was absolutely no drama with the show. Britney didn’t say anything kooky, she didn’t have a wardrobe malfunction (at least, not that we could see from where we were sitting), and everything seemed to go according to plan. We all agreed that it was a pretty great show, despite the fact that it was Britney Spears and she’s kind of a nutcase. I cannot help how much I like her songs. I want to help it, but I can’t.
It took us like 47 years to get back to the hotel, because of our total lack of navigational skills (despite a GPS system in the car and on all three of our phones) and because it completely sucks getting out of the auditorium parking lot. I think we made it back just in time for Leroy not to actually die right in front of us. But happily, she took drugs and got sleep, and knew that the next day was filled with shopping, so that seemed to cure her funk.
We slept till only 8ish, and then headed to Ann Sather’s for brunch. You guys, Daisy had tried to explain to me and Leroy the heaven that is Ann Sather’s, but you know how people will tell you something’s awesome and you nod your head politely but since you haven’t experienced it yet you can’t really imagine it could be as awesome as what they’re saying? Yeah. It totally is. Their cinnamon rolls are as big as your head and swimming in frosting goodness. UNREAL.
We were on a mission that day to fulfill a decade-long desire of Leroy’s to purchase authentic Chanel sunglasses at an authentic Chanel store. So we went in, acting like our typical obnoxious selves – you know, like the kind of people that Chanel employees loathe because we’re not actually good enough to be breathing the air in that store. But since we knew Leroy would be spending Actual Money in there, we decided to TELL the salesperson that immediately, so that our obnoxiousness would be forgiven. And it was. Big time. We were then basically fawned over by the salesperson, which we naturally ate up. You know what kind of person shops in Chanel most of the time? This kind:
That woman came in with one of those ridiculous lapdogs, and she was on a first name basis with all of the salespeople in the store. She was DRIPPING with expensiveness.
I’m not going to tell you how much Leroy spent in Chanel. But let me just say that it was an unspeakable amount of money and that she certainly did more than her part to stimulate the economy. And the glasses are FABULOUS.
After Chanel, we went to Ralph Lauren so I could pick up a shirt for Mr. Mock. And the most PRECIOUS Englishman was the salesrep who helped us. I don’t even know how to describe how precious he was, except to just show you his picture. He posed with me and the shirt, and he posed with all of us wearing polo baseball caps. and he kept saying how “smashing” everything was, and he was just so jolly and adorable that we were all on a hug basis with him by the time we left. LOVE.
If you ever go to Ralph Lauren in Chicago, you MUST find Roger and give him a big hug for us.
Anyway, after that, we hit a couple more stores and then headed home, which took longer than expected due to traffic, as well as some unmentionable pitstops we made, and when I got home I only had enough energy to hug on Mr. Mock and watch American Idol. On which Danny Gokey completely rocked the house down, and Adam Lambert continued his hideous wailing. Happily, Moleman has been voted off.
LOOK at that thing. I’ m so glad I won’t be distracted by it for the rest of the season.
So there you have it! Sorry this was such a long recap but I didn’t want to leave anything out. And I probably did anyway.