KRS ripped through his lengthy catalog of Hip-Hop hits, as the crowd went totally ape-shit and let him know he was loved in LA. As I have friends in high places, I managed to find my way to the reserved tables and cop a squat. I was told that the table was for KRS One and his friends, but I could sit there until someone came up and wanted the seats. I imagined myself kicked back with Kris at his table, as the party onlookers swarmed the table, asking themselves “Whose the dread sitting with KRS?”

I would never see that dream realized, but I was just as surprised when I was told to move from the table for KRS-One’s guests. The show was already on, and I was standing up, pumping my fist and yelling to the music, so I didn’t mind moving.

It didn’t hurt that the guest in question was Cypress Hill front man B-Real. While I did manage to make a little small talk with him over the boom bap, I refrained from asking him if he still talked to Carmen Electra, or asking him to pass the funky Kush joint he was pulling on. As much as I wanted to have a story of the time I got high with B-Real, I was too involved watching the show and didn’t want to piss him off. We stood next to each other for most of the night, until KRS went into “Get Yourself Up,” and I hit the floor in my patented B-Boy slam dance and lost control for about 3 minutes.  What can I say, that song goes way hard!!

After about an hour of pure Hip-Hop and a freestyle session with the emcees in the crowd, KRS exited stage left, and I hit the front door, a little tired, a little tipsy and full of Hip-Hop!

Oh yeah, he signed my hat too, although all you can make out of it is a K.

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