Migos took me to the show, the afterparty, and the hotel lobby, though not in that order and certainly without the connotations R. Kelly implied when he sang about such marathon misadventuring. I digress. The short of it is: I spent Grammys day/night not at the awards show, but running around with Atlanta’s hottest, most meme-able rap trio. We went to the cluuub. We went to a swank party at the storied Chateau Marmont. I sat on an ottoman in a hotel room while Quavo (leftmost above) got an $800 pair of track pants measured for alteration. There were many blunts, a couple boxes of jewels, and at least one white cup full of orange syrup. And while I interviewed Jermaine Dupri (bucket list, considering Kriss Kross was the first cassette I owned), there were unexpected in-story cameos from Chance the Rapper, Chris Brown, the Game, and Big Sean. Our nine hours together were equal parts bad and boujee. Mission accomplished.