Parking lot pimpin’ with Hustleman at Velvet Room
Forget Luda and Amber Rose’s no-show ass. The party was outside
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By Megan Ree
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Its Ludacris’ album release party and I’m having dreams of poppin’ bottles with Jazzy Pha, Diddy and Kathleen Turner, so it’s time to “Roll Out” to Velvet Room on a Sunday night. Pulling up to the club, there are Escalades, Dodge Chargers, refurbished Range Rovers, and a fucking Big Lots? Now don’t be mistaken, this is some balla ass shit. Where else would you pay 40 dollars to possibly get a glimpse of Amber Rose’s ass (she’s supposed to be hosting tonight). The parking lot is packed but who wants to pay $30 for valet, so me and my roll-out partner circle around all the while getting flagged down by a multitude of parking lot attendants and/or parking lot crackheads trying to charge $10 when the shit is free (Hustle #1).
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Now we have to walk all the way around from the back of the plaza. On the way we hear a “Psssssst, wanna cut through?” Uhhh yeah, sure. So we walk up the steps to the back door of some hair salon and ol’ boy is waiting there, still in his smock with hair clips attached. He asks for a dollar and I pay him and roll through when I hear my friend say, “You got a single?”
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“For what?” Turns out its’s a dollar per person (Hustle #2).