“What y’all wanna do?” Tender asked nobody in particular. “Y’all wanna hit dis Missy Elliot party at Billboard? Ruff Ryder havin’ an album release party fa Eve. Baby and Manny Fresh havin’ a platinum party at Club Cristal.” She read from the flyers she had collected.

“Well,” Kat started, “dat Eve party iz out. Ain’t no industry cats gonna be there. Not if we heard about it. They don’t put dat type stuff out there like that …”

“Look, let’s do sumthin’,” Goldie insisted. “I’m tired. These high heels are killin’ me.”

“… Not now, Goldie,” Kat exclaimed. “Don’t start no shit. We all got on heels jus’ like you. You don’t hear us complainin’ … Listen, dis what we gonna do …”

Not willing to settle for the average party, Kat quickly devised a plan to get into one of South Beach’s most exclusive clubs.

“C’mon, let’s go!” Kat ordered.

After waiting for a few minutes on the back of a long line, Kat saw the precise opportunity she was looking for. Bolting smoothly to the front of the line, the girls blended in with a group of guys who looked like industry types. The bouncers were busy at the front of the line checking names on the VIP list and keeping order. By the time they reached the front of the line, the two parties looked like one. The girls took it a step further, keeping their pretend dates close, as if they were couples.

“Y’all, all tagether?” the big burly bouncer asked as he looked for their names on the VIP list.

“Yeah!” one lame guy replied. He was happy as hell to have a dime piece under his arm.

When the bouncer finally spotted their names on the VIP list, another bouncer opened up the velvet rope and together they all waltzed in. Needless to say, the other females on line were mad. They began hating on them, trying to tell the bouncers what they just did.

After determining that the guys they came in with weren’t high rollers or producers, just studio technicians and recording engineers after all, the girls quickly brushed them aside, promising to get with them later.

The club was huge and packed. There were over a half-dozen bars. The dance floor was filled to capacity with partygoers getting their groove on. All Kat wanted to know was, where were the dudes with the money? She scoured the bars and tables for signs of overpriced bottles of champagne and platinum jewelry.

Spotting some potential players, Kat said, “You see those dudes right there?” pointing to a table where champagne flowed freely. “We need ta be fuckin’ wit them! Fa real!”