Tuesday night, the band plays at the Skybar.

For those of you out of the loop (like me) this is a very trendy & hip place on Sunset Strip. The stage has been built right next to the pool. And yes, starlets in bikinis abound. Of course being dressed all in black and working pool side has its drawbacks. I'm sweating like a pig.

Besides the view, the load in is tough. Three separate runs for batteries and the keyboard doesn't work. I take a stab at opening it up, spraying the contacts and wiping it down. After putting it back together, it is official -- it will never make music again.

My bro Chris sends a crack team onto Sunset Blvd. to get a new keyboard ASAP as possible. We're less than two hours before show time.

Near showtime, I collect the band & girlfriends and shuttle them to the venue.

I also have gotten a new role. I am the walker. I walk the band to and from the green room. The Skybar is first class, and since it's a private party to launch a new vodka brand into the US, the band is relaxed. In fact the band, Chris and I are all swigging champagne from a bottle behind the stage.

I'm feeling more confident as "part of the band," so I see two really cute girls at the side of the stage, bouncing up and down and singing along. I feel empowered and I signal the girls to come up the stairs and stand right next to the stage. They are both very excited and run up the steps. I do take a look at Chris for approval and he nods. Note: I never see the girls again.

The band and some of the crew leave for The Roosevelt. I am invited along and say I'll catch up with them there. I need to go back and get the Porsche. The entrance is everything. I get to the Roosevelt, valet the Porsche and head toward the velvet ropes. Here is where I get my first glimpse at the ugly underbelly of Hollywood.

I approach the woman manning the rope and explain that I am meeting some friends here. She tells me it's reservations and guests list only tonight. She tells me to text them and have someone come get me. I start sending texts but no one is responding. I am texting and calling like crazy and the entire time I see people walk up and are let right in.

I have been standing in the parking lot for a half hour feeling like a total asshole as the rich and beautiful glide pass the velvet rope. I finally get a text that says, "Tell her your with Peter, Bjorn and John. I didn’t even think of that. I had just assumed that since I was associated with them, that they weren't powerful enough to break through this gatekeeper. I walk up to her and say “I’m here with Peter Bjorn and John” and hold my breath. I'm overjoyed as she raises her hand and unclasps the shiny chrome hook from the post. And with a nod of her head, I'm in.

The venue is outdoors, surrounding a pool with palm trees and filled with the beautiful people. Of which I am now one.

I find the band and crew who are relaxing, drinking, talking on plush outdoor patio furniture. As I sit down, I hear, ''Let's get out of here."

I just got here; I stood in the parking lot for almost 40 minutes texting and calling. Now that I'm in, they're all leaving?? WTF!

Mike S. is a project manager in the petroleum industry and adjunct professor at Northwestern University. He's living the rock n' roll life for two weeks in La La Land and other parts West. His reality is Uptown, Chicago. You can read his first diary entry here