Stefani Joanne Angelina Germanotta walked into Dressing Room #34 at the Staples Center in Los Angeles after the conclusion of the 2010 Grammy Awards. She was in seven-inch soled shoes with ten-inch heels, and her shoulders were burdened with what could best be described as silvery balloons that rose above the top of her bleached hair. Stefani, otherwise known as “Lady Gaga.” slammed the door shut, making a sound that penetrated her temples and made her flinch. Stefani turned to face her reflection in the makeshift mirror bolted to the wall of a room that Stefani knew was not designed as a dressing room. The Staples Center is set up to house many different kinds of events, mostly sports, and has only a handful of what entertainment professionals consider “full-service” dressing rooms, with bathrooms, hot tubs, a kitchen, a fully stocked refrigerator, and a lounge area. The walls of Room #34 were cinder blocks, painted in what Stefani considered a dull yellow, and there was definitely not a kitchen or lounge area. There was a sink. And the card table set in front of the mirror is where she plopped her two Grammy Awards. She went to the sink against the wall to her right and washed off all her makeup. Her eyes were think with black, and as she splashed her face, the black ran down her cheeks, giving her a gothic appearance. Stefani pulled out the hardware hidden in her hair which released the long strands which fell to her shoulders. She then ripped off her wardrobe, tearing it in places, and as each piece came off, she threw it to the floor. By time she was down to her white underwear and bra, she sat in the chair facing the table and looking at her two Grammys.
There was knock at the door. ”What” yelled Stefani.
“Security,” announced a man’s voice through the closed door. Stefani rose and opened the door.
“Yeah?” asked Stefani, standing in her underwear as she was scratching her right armpit with her left hand.
The security guard was taken aback by the bare appearance of Lady Gaga.
“You are going to have to vacate in thirty minutes,” said the security guard.
“What the fuck are you talking about? This is my shit-hole dressing room. I’m going decompress,” said Stefani.
“You can’t. This is Derek Fisher’s room,” said the security guard, a tall African-American man.
“Who the fuck is Derek Fisker?” said Stefani.
“He’s a guard for the Lakers,” said Stefani.
“The Lakers. Jesus Christ, is there like a fucking basketball game on tonight, huh? No. I doubt it. So tell Derek Fisher to come back tomorrow,” said Stefani.
“No can do, ma’am,” said the security guard. ”Basketball takes precedence over everything here,” said the guard.
“Well then tell him to come in with me here like this in my underwear, OK. He won’t mind if I hang out while he does whatever he wants to do in this cinderblock prison cell,” said Stefani.
“He just wants to get into his closet and pull something out,” said the guard.
“Yeah, well, OK,” said Stefani.
“I’ll go tell him he can come,” said the guard.
The guard turned to go, and then stopped to address Lady Gaga.
“If you ask me, I think you should have gotten Record of the Year for Poker Face,” said the guard.
Stefani stood and looked at the guard.
“Oh yeah?” said Stefani.
“Yeah,” said the guard.
“You want to come in. Join me for…for whatever,” said Stefani.
“Yeah, like come into my dressing room. I’m sure Derek whatever his name is can give us time to….you know,” said Stefani.
The security guard looked down the hallway. He then looked at his watch. Stefani walked into Room #34 and stood at the table next to her Grammy Awards. She unsnapped her bra and it fell to the floor, exposing her breasts. She then fingered her Grammy Awards.
“You want to touch them,” asked Lady Gaga.
The guard came into the room and shut the door.