Nothing is Better Than a Hot Rocker Boy

Ever since I can remember, I’ve been a lover of all things music. Ok, I take that back. I was a lover of all things HOT male musicians with floppy hair. Always.

At the age of six, I wanted to pounce on Donny Osmond. Davy Jones from The Monkees was my imaginary friend. Shaun Cassidy and David Cassidy, I wanted to have a threesome with, before I knew that sex was fun. I read Teenbeat and Tigerbeat with fervor every week, and cut out pics of all my faves and hid them under my pillow, kissing them goodnight before I fell asleep.

(God I am old. Do half of you people even know who Davy Jones IS? Hahaha).

As an adult, I am still very much a worshiper of men with guitars. Or behind drums. Or just wearing very tight, bulgy pants, whipping a microphone around, hair flopping to and fro.

I would make a terrible groupie though.

When I was young and naïve (read, up until around the time I turned 30), I used to think that if you just showed up at a gig, stood in the front and smiled a lot at the lead singer and looked cute, you’d get “hand-picked” to be pulled backstage and away from mediocrity forever.

Now, I know that this can and does happen to a very select few girls (and it’s usually by the roadies or band manager), I would certainly never have been one of them. I mean, I’m cute and all, and my rack is pretty spectacular, but I do not have that je ne sais quois (read sluttiness) that would get me noticed by anyone of worth. Let’s put it this way, Taylor from the Foo Fighters ain’t jumping over his drumset into the crowd to make me his love slave.

I went through a phase where I was REALLY into seeing live shows, one band in particular. I’m not going to bother mentioning which band , not to protect the innocent, but more because, they’re sort of a hacky band, and a lot of people think they broke up like, back in the mid-90’s…so I need to protect my cool factor…at any rate, I saw these people perform probably 25 times in my life, sometimes 3 nights in one week. I knew people who “knew” them, who would hang with them backstage, some who even fucked them. I CRINGED at the thought of getting to be backstage with these people. The mere thought of having an actual conversation with them put me into a complete state of panic.

What a loser!

One night, at a club in San Diego, some friends and I were contemplating what to do after the show…somehow, a friend of one of our friends managed to get a backstage pass (I have no idea how as she CERTAINLY did not have that aforementioned je ne sais quois. I mean, not even one hint of cleavage. Jeez!) so she took full advantage of it…the rest of us losers came up with a plan.

“Let’s crawl underneath that there fence and sneak into the backstage area,” someone suggested.

So that is how I found myself on the floor, in my mini skirt, tank top, and high heeled sandals, slithering underneath a chain link fence, to meet the man of my dreams (lead singer of hacky band that I wanted so badly to fuck). This was my chance. It was now or never!

Drunk and laughing hysterically, we all made it safely to the other side, wiped off the dirt and muck we accumulated in our travels, and giggled our way to the back of the club, where we found various band members and their friends partying.

So what does any self-respecting groupie wannabe do when faced with a situation like this?

She hides in the bathroom of course!

In addition to this, we also found that friend of our friend—Backstage Pass Girl—nearly passed out, by herself, on the floor. With people sort of walking over and around her.

So much for partying with the band.

Long story short, we ended up having to inconspicuously get this girl back to our hotel (not so easy when she’d pissed and shit her pants and was vomiting uncontrollably)
And guess what. I never got to fuck the lead singer of the hacky ‘90’s band.

Yea. Groupiedom is not for me.

Recently, I got an email from a friend—someone who has absolutely nothing to do with this band or this era of my life—and she happened to mention that a friend of hers is “dating” the drummer of the hacky ‘90’s band.

Once upon a time, I would have been jealous as all hell. And berated myself for not being more aggressive in my groupieness.

Now, I just wish her luck. I hope she likes butt sex.