Stalking has Such a Negative Connotation

You know what's so awesome about NKOTB performing at a private show in Napa? Let me count the ways.

A. I like Napa

B. I know Napa like the back of my hand

C. There's only one way in (and out) of Napa

Therefore, Napa is the perfect hunting stalking ground for my Bostonian Boys. Off I went with my fabulous, voluminous locks.

I woke up at an unholy hour to get gussied up and hit the road. I only get out of bed at 6AM for 10k and Donnie Wahlberg. I tucked my oversized button in my bag for luck, and headed to wine country--with the appropriate soundtrack, of course. I borrowed the Benzi to make sure people would take me seriously, and not question my highly questionable stories.

We had an insider tip (take that, Deepthroat!) that the boys were staying at a certain hotel in Napa, so our plan was to "casually" bump into them, feign surprise, ask for a photo, and then head back home. If this didn't pan out, we were going to wait for them after their event. The concert was for a small group--probably 200 people or so, and everyone there had won tickets. The boys were going to do an unplugged, acoustic set for  a small group of their hardcore fans.

Just three normal ladies at brunch. Nothing suspicious here.

We enjoyed our food while looking around furiously. Turns out our tip was bad, or the boys slipped past us as we ate our yogurt. Either way, we got a text saying the boys were hitting the stage for their sound check, so we took off.

We went to the winery sponsoring the event, but the unhelpful lady at the counter repeated the following several times: "It's a private event, you don't have tickets, security is tight, you're not getting in." Whatevs, lady. Don't underestimate the tenacity of a Blockhead.

We meandered down the road to see if we could at least hear the concert from a neighboring winery. We spotted the tent at the end of a long road flanked by security guards. It didn't look good. As we crept down the road, we tried to cough up a somewhat believable story.

We kinda sorta declared the we were concert ticket winners, and that our tickets were kinda sorta at a will call counter that didn't exist, and that we kinda sorta had different names, and that we kinda sorta should have been on the list. The guard was furiously trying to find our (fake) names, or at least the radio station. I just knew deep down that the jig was up, and I was contemplating peeling out of there before a supervisor or cop showed up....and then it happened. The guard took one last look at us and, UNBELIEVABLY, granted us access. He told us to pull in and park, then head into the tent.

OH. MY. GOSH.

But we knew there were likely other hurdles we would have to bypass. At this point, we knew we had to keep the jig up, and walk in like we owned the place. Technically, we were supposed to have badges and lanyards to access the tent, and anyone could have questioned our presence at any point. We charged ahead boldly.

Only to be stopped once again at the entrance of the tent...and offered complimentary glasses of wine. BWAHAHAHAHA. We were in. And then this happened:

Yes, he was *that* close to me. Sigh--that smile!!!

 

I held up my lucky button, and Ddub gave me a point, smile, and a wink. Here he is below, looking RIGHT AT ME.

Sup, girl? You're looking fine.

The set was amazing, magical, and historic--truly a once in a lifetime event. I cannot believe I pulled the same shenanigans I did in high school, and was rewarded so handsomely. I felt zero guilt about sneaking in, but I didn't want to push my luck by eating their delicious cheese, so I passed on the refreshments.

It was a hard choice to make

After the show, the boys bolted, and we half heartedly checked a few local wineries to see if they stopped in for a little wine tasting. They didn't, but my friends did the tasting menu at Sattui, and we all celebrated our finely honed stalking/event crashing skills. In case you don't know, I met this friend in the audience at a NKOTB show in Fresno 4 years ago. It's a Blockhead thing.

After Sattui, we hit up my favorite local haunt, Gott's Roadside, and feasted like kings as we continued to revel in our good luck.

The moral of the story: stalking, lying, and bad behavior in general totally pays off!!I highly suggest following my example. And despite engaging in risky, jailable offenses, there's no denying that I have a set of solid brass lady stones.