Dublin Memories, or, The Time I Toked the Snoop Doobie

Last night, Shan and I decided to treat ourselves to dinner out at a restaurant. The boys weren't around, so we thought it was the opportune time to choose a non-Moroccan restaurant, and we opted for Chinese. Excellent choice.

As we sat there enjoying the pleasures of swine, we had lovely conversation about anything and everything except work. It was wonderful to slow down the cogs in the brain for a couple of hours, and we did a lot of reminiscing about the last few years since I've been living in Dublin and she moved back to Arkansas and then back to California.

One thing that I still find ironic is that not once in the 3 1/2 years that I lived in LA did I see any celebrities, though I spent a fair amount of time up in Hollywood. I did feel a slight sense of injustice at this turn of events, given the whole POINT of moving to LA, when you've grown up in small-town Arkansas, is to see what Ben Affleck is like in the flesh. But the irony of the situation didn't come until after I'd moved to Dublin. Only a few months after I arrived in Dublin, situations presented themselves so that I encountered the following: Pierce Brosnan, Arnold Swartzenegger, Maria Shriver, Colin Farrell, Jon Bon Jovi, Nelson Mandela, Bono (and the rest of U2), Robbie Keane, The Darkness, Juliette Lewis, and several well known Irish personalities/bands. Among others.

That was cool and all, but the one person that I got star struck by, like literally couldn't form words properly, was Snoop Dogg. The lack of words may or may not have been in direct correlation with the number of Jack-and-Diet-Coke consumed prior to the meeting of the Snoop. Anyway, we were at a VIP party after some Irish music awards and got to go back into his lair to be a part of his harem for the night. I had anticipated prior to the party that I might get to meet him, and so had asked Ro, my then boy-friend, for permission to lock lips with Snoop Dogg, should the opportunity present itself. Ro laughingly gave me permission, of course thinking there was NO WAY I was gonna meet Snoop Dogg. Ha ha!

We headed on back to the harem, and it was literally that: the bodyguards wouldn't allow any men to come into the room. So Snoop was there with his band and about 30 or so women. But it was suprisingly low key. So low key, in fact, that I actually walked RIGHT PAST him without even noticing him sitting there. Once I registered that, I was still reeling when Norah, good ol' Norah, marched directly up to him and stuck out her hand for a hand shake. She leaned down to him and stated matter-of-factly that I had gained special permission from my boyfriend to get the Snoop kiss and he needed to oblige me. Snoop laughed, and said "Oh man, y'all made me laugh; that's the first time I laughed all day!" Score! We (read: Norah) had done the impossible. We had made the D-o-g-g crack up. So I leaned down and got my kiss, after which I was offered a toke from the Snoop doobie. No decision really. Of course one must toke the Snoop doobie when offered. And I toked and toked again. That must have been some chronic or some mad Mexican shit, 'cause I was pretty dizzy for the next several hours. Sweet. I have Snoop residue on my lips.

Good times. Great fun.