So Fain’s Nick Lachey Incident

So Fain’s Nick Lachey Incident

Devils Business

November 12th, 2014


After retelling the Nick Lachey incident story on the podcast this week, I thought I’d go look up the original blog I made about it on MySpace later that very week.  Of course I got the story a little wrong for the podcast but this should clear it all up.

Posted: 6/30/2006 8:32:00 AM  (Wow!  Seriously?  WTF?)

Sometimes even I surprise myself with my drunken behavior…  And you would think by now that I should expect anything when I’m pounding Jagerbombs like Earnest Hemingway on safari.

Well, last night I was in desperate need of a good drunk.  This week was a struggle in several aspects of my life and was distracting me from the fact that I should be celebrating Max, Nick and I’s finish in the Maxim Road Trip and their subsequent endorsement of our binge drinking and social misbehavior.  After work, I knew that I had to gear up and prep myself for a bender worthy of my own high regard for my drinking ability.  By 9pm, I was pumped up and racing for Buckhead and sweet, sweet relief.

I started off aggressively slamming Jagerbombs and Cape Cod’s at Havana until I knew I was dangerously close to blackout time.  My warning indicator was the fact that I was having a conversation with two lovely ladies that involved a discussion of both string theory and sex.  I believe the line that capped the conversation was when I said “If we keep discussing Quantum Physics, I’m going to take you home and premature ejaculate on your back.”  I am fairly certain that this is the very first time in the history of modern man that this sentance has been uttered.  Well done, Albert Drunkenstein, time to take this show on the road.

So, Dutchoven was there to whisk me away on a whirlwind tour of the Buckhead bars.  Step one was over to Tongue and Groove for another Jagerbomb.  We did the obligatory stop at the main entrance where the doorman did his usual bit of saying that I couldn’t come in because I didn’t make the dress code due to my shoes.  I made my regular weekly retort which was “That guy is coming in the door with fucking $15 Hush Puppies on and I can’t get in with Limited Edition 1978 Grand Prix Throwback Adidas with Goodyear soles?”  I followed with my usual turn and walk away before that grouchy fucker called the cop over again.  That part of our weekly routine I can do without. Dutchoven and I headed around the block to the Peachtree entrance where we were able to skip the line and get in T&G with no hassle.  This also happens every week.  My favorite part is leaving out the main entrance and clapping that asshole doorman on the back and wishing him a good night.  It never fails to piss him off.  The fucking prick.

The rest of the night was pretty hazy and involved lots more drinking and obnoxious behavior.  However, I now want to get to the original point of this blog…  While in Tongue and Groove, I ran into an A-list celebrity.  Now this happens a bit here in Atlanta at the clubs we frequent.  In the past couple months I’ve been a drunken ass around Jaime Pressly, Usher, Charles Barkley, Tommy Lee, Nikki Sixx and Matthew McConaughey…  So this is not unfamiliar territory.  But this was none other than Nick Lachey….  The hero that married and deflowered Jessica Simpson and managed to put up with her absolute mental vacancy on national television.  I had to make sure that in my brief moment that I was face-to-face with him that I said something that would ensure that he would remember me.  Actually, to be honest, I was completely caught off guard, but I think I managed to find a succinct sentance that he would remember me by for a while even in the sea of adoring fans that he was confronted with in this rather crowded bar.

This is how it went down…  Dutchoven had made a quick run into VIP and came back to where I was at the bar to inform me that Nick Lachey was at a table.  My attention was on the fact that she was scoring us a free round of Jagerbombs and thought little of it.  After slamming the shots, we decided to fight thru the crowd.  Luckily a cop with a flashlight was headed thru so we jumped in front of him as the crowd parted.  I had no idea that this cop was guiding Nick.  So once we reached the far end of the room, I turned to scan the crowd and took a few steps toward a friend who was dancing on the pole…  And whammo…  I ran face-to-face into Nick Lachey.

I was stunned and quite surprised by his rather slight stature.  Maybe my vision was a little off due to my eyeballs floating in Jager but this guy was fucking short.  He looked up at me and our eyes met.  This was my opportunity to say something meaningful and I took it.  I just wasn’t quite prepared for what I actually said.  I looked down at him and exclaimed, Holy shit!  You’re a fucking midget!”

Apparently this was not what he was hearing from everyone else and he gave me a rather irritated look as the cop grabbed my arm to pull me out of Nick’s way.  As he was walking off in a huff I tried to ease his temper by shouting, “Weren’t you in Tiny-Eight Degrees?!?”  Even the cop chuckled at that one.

Anyway, I just thought that while I was installing all this damn software this morning, I’d share my brief encounter with the A-List and give you an example of how you can be remembered by a celebrity who has had his ass kissed by everyone else in the city.  Ooops, my upgrades are complete.  Gotta run.

Stay slutty, Atlanta!

So there it is.  I was close enough for government work.

-So Fain