...fuckin' groupies.

originally posted @ http://scottmartinbrooks.blogspot.com

...few things irked me more than groupies.
to me, there's just something really infuriating about a chick who wants to talk to you/bang you simply because you're famous. i think i take it as an insult or something...oh, what, if i was'nt famous, you would'nt wanna bang me? yeah, ok, sure, i did kinda enjoy the fact that if there was a girl i wanted to meet, i did'nt have to work hard to do it...i had a guaranteed "in". it's a curious and fascinating study of human nature. if i were just some guy off the street, i'd have to do the "peacock strut" to break the ice and arouse a chick's interest (be attractive & stylish, be charming & impressive, make great conversation & be interesting, etc) ...and we'd have to spend at least a little time "getting to know each other", so she can feel reasonably safe & comfortable with me. but, oh no, not when you're famous. being famous is almost like an implied background check. if the world knows you, well, you must be something pretty special, and you gotta be "safe", right? but, that's not really the same thing. all that stuff applies to meeting a girl you genuinely dig and want to go out with. that's not what i'm talking about here. i'm talking about groupies. chicks who throw you the p*ssy, no questions asked, simply because they saw you on TV. and that shit really turns me off.

the first time i remember it happening was at the new york times...
we were there to do an interview, and when we walked into the lobby some people saw us and kinda flocked around us. after signing a couple autographs and taking a couple pictures, we headed to the elevator. right before the doors shut, a girl quickly squeezes in. i recognized her from being amongst the folks who gathered in the lobby; a pretty, 20-ish, tall blonde. she asks; "so, who are you guys?" we tell her. she's never heard of us, and seems pretty much underwhelmed. (this was in the very early days of the commercials, so, not unusual) but then she says; "can i have your autographs?" i immediately snap at her; "why? you don't even know who we are!" and she says; "yeah, but those people said you're famous, so..." i don't remember exactly what i said; but i know it was something along the lines of "get the fuck outta here with that bullshit!", accompanied by a disgusted scowl. paul and fred, to their credit, joined me in that sentiment. she just kinda shrugged...not particularly dejected, just an "oh well" kind of shrug. for the rest of the elevator ride we made fun of her like she was'nt in the room. and this kind of scenario repeated itself several times over the years...in a washington DC nightclub, where 2 very pretty black chicks came up to me asking how long i was going to be in town and if i needed a place to stay that night...in the vip suite of a dallas sports arena, where a really cute light-skinned girl and her blonde friend invited me back to their apartment for a "party" that night...etc, etc. and yeah, say what you want, but i declined every time. and depending on my mood, it might've been a fairly harsh rebuke...to put it mildly. (i should also mention; i was in a serious relationship for most of that time during our fame, and i had no desire to cheat on my girl...but, even if i was single, i'm sure i'd've still reacted the same way)

then there was this other time...i'm not sure if i should name the city, or the person...but, we were making a nightclub appearance at a huge outdoor "beach" club. and, as always, there were local reps from "the company" there to assist us and handle the appearance. and there was this one guy in particular, a company exec., every time i turned around, he was right there, smiling at me, offering me stuff. he never asked me what i wanted, he would just offer me stuff. he was obviously totally geeked to be in the presence of a celebrity, and yeah, he was trying to be "helpful", but it was coming from a very sycophant-ish place. and one of the main things he repeatedly offered me was girls. he kept asking if i wanted to meet this chick, or that chick, or the other chick, pointing them out as he asked. he kept gushing about how hot the 'bud girls' were (local models they hire to walk around in budweiser minidresses), and how they're all "ready to go"... oh really? they are? did you hire them from the local brothel? or, is one of the questions on the job application; "are you willing to 'party' with the vip's? *wink wink*" i told him no every time, and i tried to make it clear i did'nt want him to get me girls. but he did'nt get the message. either he just was'nt hearing me, or he must've thought i was just being modest. but it got really annoying really fast. it became painfully obvious that he was trying to live vicariously through me...he wanted SO BADLY for me to go full-on rockstar and party hard with some hot lil' piece of ass that he hooked me up with...and probably want to watch, or join in. fuckin' freak. at some point during the night, he comes and gets me, and leads me over to where he had 3 girls standing next to each other in a line. he waved his hand like a "price is right" showcase showgirl, and had this really big shit-eatin' grin on his face. "you like them? they're pretty hot, huh?", he says. the girls are just standing there smiling. i just look at him, saying nothing. "which one do you like? go ahead, pick the one you like"...like i was friggin jim kelly in "enter the dragon". i fuckin' snapped. "dude!!! what the fuck is wrong with you??? stop trying to pimp girls to me!!! if i want a fucking girl, i'll go get one myself, ok??? now, stop it!!! seriously!!!" he was still standing there with his hand outstretched, but now his huge smile slowly transforms into gape-mouthed confusion. he really could'nt wrap his brain around it. i turned and walked away...i immediately went to the the main bud exec who was organizing the appearance, and i barked at him, telling him to do something about his boy because he was pissing me off. the bud exec made a bee-line for the guy and reamed him out. (i do miss the days of being accompanied by a team of people who's sole purpose it was to do your bidding *lol*) of course, for the rest of the night, the guy was all pissy toward me and shot me angry-sad faces every time he caught my eye. he was actually really hurt that i did'nt wanna play with him. i mean...it's not like he and i had been talking and he got a sense that i was down to party...this guy did'nt know me from adam, and i gave him zero indication that i was that kinda dude, he just made assumptions based on the fact i was a "celebrity", so of course that means i must want chicks served to me on a platter. *grumble* ...idiot.

...ok, this is'nt technically a groupie story, but, i think it's funny.
...we're in miami. we have a night off. we decide to hit a club. i remembered that one of my old club-buddies from philly had moved to miami and was working at 'level', so we head over there. the line out front was'nt even a line...it was a mob. we heard people saying that this-celebrity and that-celebrity were supposed be there that night. *meh*...whatever...we just wanted to hang out. so, i squeeze my way to the ropes (having worked the club scene for so many years I; a) refuse to ever wait in a line, and b) know how to work my way into almost any club). the door girl looked like the smokin' hot, glamour-goth, unholy spawn of alana de la garza and 'bride of frankenstein'...black latex bustier, black panties, severe high heels, jet-black hair pulled up into a top ponytail. now, my plan was to get her attention and tell her we were dejuan's friends from philly. but, as soon as she saw my big moon face leering at her, she smiled, walked over, grabbed the rope, asked me who was with me, and let us all in. 'cause we're baller, that's why. she calls over one of the hostesses and instructs her to take us to vip. i thank her, she kisses me on the cheek and says; "no problem sweetie, have a great time." the hostess grabs me by the hand and starts navigating her way through the mass of people like an icebreaker ship. she tells me to make sure my party stays close and does'nt get lost...so i grab paul's hand, he grabs fred's hand, and he grabs puerto, and we're being led through the club like kindergartner's on a field trip. she takes us to the back of the club, the bouncer lifts the rope when he sees her coming, and she sets us up at a booth. so now we're in vip, a world away from the chaos just outside the rope. a hostess comes over, paul & puerto order bottles of something expensive. i ask her where my boy dejuan is, she gets a big smile on her face; "you know dejuan???" i tell her i'm an old friend from philly, she takes me over the the bar where he is. he and i do the man-hug and chat for a second, then i make my way back to our booth. so, we're chillin' in vip, having a pretty good time. the boys are off mingling, i'm sitting up on the backrest of the booth, watching the crowd, kinda off to myself. after a bit, a girl comes over and sits a couple feet from me, up on the backrest, just like me. very pretty puerto rican girl, long curly hair, little black dress and heels. i notice but don't say anything. soon enough she starts chatting me up...just some small talk, very casual. she moves over and sits closer, we keep chatting. then the chatting becomes flirting. nothing too heavy-handed, subtle, but definitely flirting. i tell her that we're leaving the next day for DC, for NBA all-star weekend...she informs me that she'll be there too. i ask; "oh really? cool! are you going just to hang out or, what?" she says; "um, i'm working." "that's cool, what do you do?", i ask. she gives me some answer which i can't remember anymore. but she gives me her card (which has a very professional black & white photo of her lying on the beach) and tells me to call her, and we'll hook up when we're in DC, then walks away. i'm thinking; "awesome!" not long after, the hostess comes back over, bringing some drinks that the guys ordered. she's got this sheepish smile on her face, and asks; "i saw you getting a little buddy-buddy with that girl...do you know her?" i said no. she says; "ok, look, maybe this is'nt my place, but, you're a friend of dejuan's, and i love dejuan, so, i feel like i should tell you." i'm sitting there oblivious, like a puppy listening to a human talking. "um...she's working", the hostess says. i'm still oblivious, no clue what she meant. "she 'works' here...you know...a professional?" it still took about 3 seconds before it dawned on me. i don't know why i was so slow...i think because i totally did not see this girl as a pro...she had none of the usual tell-tale signs, so nothing registered in my brain, so when she told me this, i was'nt making the connection. but then, it all made sense. i gotta hand it to her though...she was very smooth! totally had me fooled! i might've even called her and hooked up in DC...then been mad as a muthafuka when she handed me a bill at the end of the weekend!!! i thanked the hostess profusely for saving me from that embarrassment, then ran to paul & fred like a little kid; "yo!!! that chick was fuckin' hooker!!!"