ST. PETERSBURG [Tampa Tribune] - It was Diddy's party, but he came within an hour of missing the whole thing Thursday night. And then there was the 3 a.m. ketchup fight at the Waffle House today. But more on that later.
First, at the Diddy party red carpet, there was no Diddy.
Eleven o'clock passed, the time top staff at The Venue nightclub promised Diddy would appear. Midnight came and went. But no Diddy here. No Diddy there. No Diddy anywhere.
"When's Diddy going to be here? Come on, tell us," came cries from an unruly pack of red carpet paparazzi and reporters – like me.
"I think Jesus might appear first," was the reply.
(If this report sounds distracted, it's because I'm writing at a Waffle House, where Arizona and Pittsburgh fans got into a messy, messy fight. First, insults flew. Then, manhood was questioned. Then, splat! An Arizona fan leapt out of his booth and sprayed a whole bottle of Heinz ketchup on the wildly outnumbered Pittsburgh advocates. It was a spectacular explosion. Splatter covered the walls. Eventually, the two were separated. A gentle and giant former Arizona player nearby profusely apologized for his friend's behavior and handed a $100 bill to the spraying victim to pay for dry cleaning – then bought waffles for everyone else. In turn, the victim, smiling, handed the $100 to the unfazed staff at the Waffle House, who squeegeed ketchup from the walls. Things calmed down. Police showed up about 15 minutes later, but no arrests were made since the ketchup culprit was outside, hiding in the parking lot.)
Now, back to our celebrity report. The paparazzi pack, still Diddyless, perked up with the arrival of Stormy Daniels, who I am told is a "top three" adult film star.
She posed for the cameras. She offered sound bites for the TV crews. She waxed economic on the adult entertainment downturn. Yes, there's a downturn in that market, too, she said with a sigh.
"You have to stay ahead of the curve," when it comes to keeping up with free "content" out there, which brings her no revenue, she said. "We're pretty fast to adopt new technology, so we'll keep innovating."
Besides, she soon starts production on a mainstream, nonporn feature film – a horror movie. She'll give another year, maybe two, to adult films. Then she's only doing "mainstream" film production, she says.
Along came the models, wannabes and could-be celebrities who dashed from their limos into the club. Plus a steady flow of NFL players whose teams didn't make the Super Bowl.
Boxer Winky Wright, an official host of the Good Life Experience party showed up, happy as the father of the bride. Then came retired football star Deion Sanders, another official host, wearing his electric white teeth and a tiny, tiny fedora.
The clock continued to tick, and TV crews started to drop off for lack of Diddy.
Then, at 1:05 a.m., rumor spread that Diddy had snuck in the back of the club – skipping the red carpet processional. News crews wailed. Security staff scrambled, and publicists confirmed the tragic news.
After some tense negotiations, club representatives offered to bring just three reporters inside to interview Sean "Diddy" Combs, music and fashion mogul.
I was one of them, but I lost my exclusive when Diddy's people ran another sneak play. The announcement was stunning: Diddy would leave the club, get back in his motorcade, then re-enter the club through the red carpet.
He did so, and like Stormy Daniels, he also waxed economic.
"All you hear is recession, recession, recession," Diddy offered. "Even a recession has to take a break. That's what this is about."
What does "the good life" mean to Diddy, the crowd asked. Diddy responded: friends, family, celebrating in the "right way."
Rumors that Paris Hilton or Donald Trump would appear that night proved false.
And with that, Diddy re-entered the club, and the reporters packed up. I went to the Waffle House.
