Nelly's 7th Annual Black & White Ball: A Diary of Our Crash Course in County Grammar
Nelly's 7th Annual Black & White ball was this weekend at the St. Louis Science Center. The charity event brought out some of the city's best and brightest, all dressed in finery for an evening of music, food, drinks and hobnobbery. Also in attendance were a couple Stag-swilling chumps with absolutely no money invested in the stock market: Namely, myself and fellow RFT Music writer Ryan Wasoba. Here's how our night went.
5 p.m. We head to Value Village to purchase suits, me because I don't own one and Ryan because he did not know he was going to the Black & White Ball when he left home this morning. Total cost of our evening's attire: $23, combined. There is a faint series of chalky stains on the edge of my jacket I choose to not think too hard about.
Ryan Wasoba gets ready for the Ball.
7:30 p.m. We get to the Science Center, where it is immediately apparent that if we are not the worst-dressed attendees of the 7th Annual Black & White Ball, we are at the very least those with the loosest-fitting clothing.
7:45 p.m. People keep arriving and posing on the red* carpet. A gaggle of press photographers click into action. I assume these are movers and shakers but I am not in the movers and shakers club so I don't know for sure. Definitely I recognize Joe Edwards, Murphy Lee and Steven Jackson, who is noticeably limping, maybe because he spent his afternoon getting hit by men the size of trucks.
*actually black, in this case, which I guess is in keeping with the theme anyway.
8 p.m. Ryan Wasoba engages the two blue-clad security guards at the entrance to the Exploradome, where the Ball is being held. It goes like this:
Ryan Wasoba: Are you with the Science Center?
Security Guard: Yeah
RW: How much would it take for me to ride a dinosaur?
Security guard: There ain't enough money for one of those, even Nelly ain't got enough money for a dinosaur
RW: I don't want one, I just want to ride one. You can have it back after.
Security guard: Ahh, nah, man.
RW: Fifteen dollars.
Security guard: This guy's trying to pay me fifteen dollars to ride a dinosaur!
8:15 p.m. Cirque act the Skating Aratas performs. There is stripping of clothing and precarious flinging of the woman by the man. I'll let Nelly describe the situation, as he did later from the stage: "If you gotta skate around a coffee table, skate! Do whatever it takes to make your marriage work."