AROUNDPHILLY: ACCIDENTIAL SOCIALITE: Godfather of Sole

James Brown said it best, “Get up offa' that thing and dance 'till you feel better.” And if you don’t listen to the Godfather than you’re better off in the house watching reruns of the Real World than out on a Friday night in the city. Normally deemed date night, Friday night has become a staple of up-all-night (well -till 2am at least) dance-a-thons and Red Bull-fueled crazes for my best friend and I. Always on the prowl for stronger drinks and louder music, this weekend was no exception to the rule.

Our party train parked at an advertised The Hills VIP Grand Opening party at Sole Food restaurant at the Loews Hotel. My best friend, who we shall call Zee--a beautiful and stylish model always up on the party scene and who’s who in the city--told me excitedly that we were going and that I’d better plan a divine outfit. Enough said. I was decked out in a vintage 80s dress and 40s pinup shoes and Zee in a black ruched skirt and tube top. Unfortunately, we hit a dead end. The line was at standstill around the block with no signs of moving.

Waste perfectly good ensembles? Don't think so. Stand in line all night? Yeah right. Not get inside to see what's happening? Not an option. So what do two fun-loving gals do when the odds look as grim as this? You look for an opportunity. One generous couple came out, with wristbands and handed them to a group of girls in front of us, so they could go inside. Zee and I looked at each other, concocting a plan. We would pounce on the next set of people leaving, take their bands and waltz past security into the digs. Except, Zee and I are chickens. We're scaredy cat girls who sweat at the idea of getting a penny extra in change. With our tattered wristbands we shuttered at the idea of a bouncer stopping us and yelling in our faces, "You girls weren't in there, your bands are fake!" And us running away forever, never to show our faces again! (A bit dramatic.)

But where there's a will, there's a way and we had to dance, if only for the memory of James Brown. Zee pulled me to the side and told me to quietly walk down the street. As conspicuous as I could be, "Where are we going? The line is that way." She hushed me and told me to follow her. Lo and behold, an open side entrance. It was as if the party gods were giving us a free pass. We threw each other a "whew, that was lucky" glance and proceeded to dance, eat delicious popcorn shrimp and mingle all in the name of a good time. I think the Godfather of Soul would be proud.

This week's lesson: Always check side doors for and back entries when working with recycled passes.

Stayed tuned for more from the Accidential Socialite.