Showing posts with label Bryce Gruber. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Bryce Gruber. Show all posts

Saturday, May 16, 2009

Juliana Get's Out of the House With Bryce Gruber

"The Inner Sanctum #1", 40/40 Club, NYC, 2009.



"Very Important #1", 40/40 Club, NYC, 2009.


Dear Bryce,

Thanks for inviting me out to the ultra VIP 40 40 Club! I had a blast! Yes, I, Juliana Beasley entered the inner sanctum of the possibly only Mod decorated sports club in the universe. Alas, I got through the locks of heavy gates, walking pass the gargantuan bodies of guards to the nether kingdoms.

I stood at the entrance of the 40 40 Club, as we had arranged. A text message came through...she would be out in a moment to gather me. Five minutes later, a delicate white hand appeared out of the vault door and I hear, "Juliana?". With one heel out the door, bracing herself with the other heel inside the door, she grabs my hand. She dwarfs me and I feel like a child dangling from a mother with a mission. She is 16 years my minor.



"Waiting on Line #1", 40/40 Club, NYC, 2009.



Bryce passes me a fluorescent orange hospital band as we march through an eager plebeian crowd into the first room. Ready to snap and roll, three line deep rows of paparazzi sit center stage, gazing upon a bright white foam core backdrop covered in logos. All cameras are in vertical position meeting the guidelines of Getty and other agencies who might shun my horizontals and squelch my files in virtual garbage cans.

She directs me to my spot, off to the side, on a diagonal. This is where I am to stand and capture the terrible glare of beaming lights upon my lens. I need the freedom to move and mingle, I feel like I am standing in a block of cement.

Between bright lights and darker interiors, the exposure choices promise to be difficult for anyone who veers away from the door mat posing as red carpet imprinted with the soil of past and present posers, shakers, love makers, and sudden flash of the real deal celebrity. I can not tell the difference between who matters, who does not. I have two channels on my t.v. The bent rabbit ears and the coming of digital only will leave me to my permanent place of pleasant disengagement.



"Manager #1", 40/40 Club, NYC, 2009.



"Posing #1", 40/40 Club, NYC, 2009."



Bryce is the kind of girl you want to be friends with. She's fresh faced, beautiful, friendly and ballsy without the appendages.



"Bryce and Friends", 40/40 Club, NYC, 2009. Bryce is on far right.



...and also, the girl I never would have gotten to be friends with because she was in the cool group and I wasn't. In fact, she has about 3K plus friends more that I have on FACEBOOK. It is so large that even my DSL service will not allow me to crack into it.

I met Bryce, the bright-eyed young woman, the CEO, maxi Leader of Intensity Global and website entrepreneur of a Luxury Spot on her birthday....Bryce was it 25?

Bryce is just a nice person. I don't know her and although, I cannot confirm with the 3K friends on FACEBOOK would say the same, I would assume they might venture to say the same thing. One thing, I can say for sure is that the evening I met first met her, she was not surrounded in the cushion of models and ass lickers. As it seemed, she was in the company of sincere friends.

The Luxury Spot CEO and employees are described to be "fun-loving, posh New Yorkers with a penchant for better living." I would unfortunately never enter the realms of this inner circle. My place is a mess, I can be morose, yet positively excitable and my nails are filthy. I lack the skills of daily feminine hygiene and simple care. At best, I have some expensive hair products for my problem hair and I eat spinach and red cabbage almost every day.



"Luxury Rental", 40/40 Club, NYC, 2009.



So, what could a top woman like Bryce do for the femme in me? Could the Luxury Spot offer me a personal hygiene assistant for at least 2 months free or until I could catch on to daily self-nurturing and beautifying schedule?

"Boys in the Rec Room", 40/40 Club, NYC, 2009.