This Week: Backstage and Underwhelmed

Woohoo! Backstage! Alright! Who's with me? Backstage is where all the good stuff happens. As the hair metal videos of my youth taught me, the rowdiest, most unhinged rock 'n' roll moments of all time take place here.

When I was finally old enough attend concerts, I'd stand by the side of the stage, craning my neck to see who'd have access. I imagined what it looked like on the other side of the velvet rope: trays of fancy food everywhere, every kind of libation imaginable, and there was the hope that something, anything could happen. And, it would rule.

Of course, once I got older and actually got to go backstage, I realized that it wasn't like the Motley Crue video I had in my head AT ALL. In reality, the guys in the bands would all seem tired, stressed out, and chat away on their cell phones to their girlfriends back home, relaying the monotony of their lives on the road. Instead of fully-stocked deli trays, there would be a half of a stale pita on limp lettuce leaves. Open bar? Not quite. More like bottled water and maybe a can of Bud Light, if you're lucky. Where's the rowdiness? Where's the spontaneity?

As for the band dudes themselves, it's been pretty much of a letdown too. And, so we have arrived at our theme this week: hooking up with dudes in bands and having it go over like a lead balloon. After all the fuss and buildup, in the end, they probably should've just remained on the bucket list.

Do you have any good stories about smooching a rock star? Send 'em on over to us at hi@shmittenkitten.com. We wanna know!

This Week: Backstage and Underwhelmed

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Reader Submission: The Neverending Sleazy

This next story comes to us from our reader Jane. We've all been there. And, by we, I mean any girl who has ever tried to hook up with any boy in a band that ever existed. I'm sure there are old ladies going around still complaining about how lousy the dude who played the violin on the Titanic was. There must be historical records of Roman ladies fed up with their local lute players. I mean, that's just history right there. Take it away, Jane:

I don't really like band boys, but during the summer after I broke up with my high school boyfriend I was pretty pathetic and was looking for straight-up hookups. An indie band (I wish I could remember their name, they never made it big, but they did tour for many years) was staying at my friend's house, and the drummer was kinda hot. I tried flirting him up, but it was a no go.

The singer, on the other hand, took to flirting with me by…pulling my hair!??! This winner also brought his personal mini-humidifier with him on tour. Who does that? Like I said, I was pathetic, so gave in and took him home with me late that night, or early that morning, whichever.

After about an hour or more of sack time, he still had not finished. I gave him a while longer and then was like, "I'm tired, and need to get some sleep so I can go to work tomorrow," in an attempt to hurry him up. He got pouty and still never finished on his end.

I finally had enough and drove him back to the house his band was at just so I could get some sleep after the worst night of never ending sex I've ever had. That sex was so supremely un-rocker-like; a guy with a humidifier who couldn't come! I then hooked up with the guitarist of a very popular political hardcore band – if you can call any political hardcore band popular – and dated him for ten years!

Wow. What a fussy, unfun, un-rocker way to act. He should go back to rocker school, watch some early Van Halen videos, and learn how to kick it up a few notches. "Less Death Cab, More Motley Crue." Learn it; live it.

Reader Submission: The Neverending Sleazy

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Backstage and Underwhelmed: Dashed Dreams and Sleazy Scene Kings

I always thought that dating the singer of a band would be, like, the pinnacle of dating. He's stare into my eyes from the stage, singing lyrics about our private moments and inside jokes. He'd thank me on the liner notes of his album for being the best girlfriend ever. We'd wake up in crumpled sheets and he'd serenade me with a little ditty he just came up with off the top of his head. And, in three months time--after he recorded it with the rest of his band--it'd be the biggest hit of the summer. I'd be his "Maggie May," his "Layla" and his "Allison," all wrapped up in one.

In reality, dating a guy in a band is pretty much nothing like this. They tend to be dramatic, whiny baby-men who can't do anything for themselves. Their driver's license is either revoked or lost. He hasn't been on an apartment lease in years because he owes the electric company over $200. He constantly loses his cell phone. Oh, and he is probably still in love with his ex-girlfriend, but she won't talk to him anymore since she found out he cheated on her while she was out of town for a work conference. Yes, he will write you a song, but honestly, you'd rather he'd just take out for a nice meal instead.

I've dabbled with a few Philly band guys, but most of them don't warrant any further response than a shrug. The best story I have about hooking up with a band dude took place a few years ago at a show. This guy, let's call him Shorty, was in a popular Midwest indie rock band. I'd seen him around at shows for a few years and on this night, we decided to get more familiar.

I don't remember how it happened, but he pulled me to the side of the stage and we started smooching behind a speaker cabinet while a band was playing onstage. We went at it for a while, 'til the band finished and we realized that pretty much everyone at the show could see us. Then, we went back to the bar to hide in a corner. On the way, he slid his arm around my waist and slid his other arm around the waist of a pretty blonde standing near us and said, "Hey girls! Let's get naked and have some fun back at my hotel."

My face looked like he had just asked me to sniff his old gym socks. I mumbled something about having to wake up early and backed away. Ewww! Who says stuff like that? I'm not a groupie, homeboy. Hooking up with a rock star wasn't hot; it was just, well, sleazy. There were no special serenades, no liner note shout outs, just the threat of a multitude of STDs. I was honestly not interested.

Shorty went on to do very well for himself. He decided to take his sound in a fun, R&B, sexxxy jamz Stevie Wonder/Justin Timberlake direction. Last I heard, he was appearing on vodka commercials in Eastern Europe and he had a bit part in a Ben Stiller movie. Whoop-de-freakin-doo. As for me, I am pretty much cured of my rock star fantasy. My new rule is that if I'm gonna date a dude in a band he has to have scored at least a 6.7 rating on Pitchfork. I mean, a girl's gotta have standards, right?

Backstage and Underwhelmed: Dashed Dreams and Sleazy Scene Kings

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Backstage and Underwhelmed: Taking A Stroll Down Memory Lane

Hooking up with rock stars. How fun is that? I actually have a few stories for this topic but I'm not a groupie, I swear. Except maybe I am, and you know what? I don't care anymore. Being a groupie isn't necessarily about sleeping with the band, even though it will happen. Sleeping with the lead singer isn't a groupie's goal. Saying "hi" and telling the band how much of a fan you are is the only groupie goal. If it goes further than that, then lucky her.

A band (who will remain nameless) from the Midwest came to play a show at my college. After the show, my friends and I hung around to talk to them and found out they needed a place to stay and being the really fun outgoing girl at the show, I let them all crash in my quad. My roommate didn't care who stayed over because she was just as chill as I was and my other college girl friends loved the idea of sipping 40s and smoking doobies with hot rocker boys until dawn. I actually forget where they were from now but they were hot, had shaggy hair and tattoos and could sing and play guitar. What else mattered?

So we ended up partying all night and I ended up kicking it to the lead singer for a couple hours. It was obvious it would happen from the beginning of the night, with the constant flirting, but I definitely didn't plan it; it kind of just happened. The bass player ended up hooking up with my friend down the hall too, so they got more than a place to stay for the night. I still wonder what those boys are doing today. Those nice, dirty rocker guys. *Sigh*

Another rock star hookup was about a year ago. I became MySpace friends with this band and I received a personal friend request and message from the drummer saying he'd seen me at their shows before and next time I see him I should say hi. He was hot and would constantly text and call me while he was on the road. He would send me dirty pictures and I would send dirty pics back if I was drunk or felt like being kinky.

I went to see a few shows and we hooked up a couple times. It was fun and I didn't take it seriously. It was all fun and games until I got interrogated by some chick I've never seen before at one of their shows. At first she was being really nice then she started making smarmy comments about my outfit. Then she said she had recognized me from the comments I'd written on the little drummer boy's MySpace and wanted to know how long I'd been talking to her boyfriend. Boyfriend? Oh please, not again. I mentioned how I recognized her from his top friends too and continued trying to be nice to her, despite her condescending comments and snarls.

His MySpace relationship status said he was a swinger so I thought all of his hoes knew he was a playa playa? It was obvious to me he was talking to other girls from seeing all his MySpace comments. And, I wasn't looking for anything serious. I mean, he's on tour all summer with tons of fan girls throwing themselves all over him. How could he not mess around every now and then? If I were in the same position, I'd be livin' it up too.

After the show I had a couple more drinks with my friend and just as I was about to leave he came up and gave me a hug and said hi with a huge smile on his face. That's when his "girlfriend" came up and grabbed him by the arm. As she pulled him away, he turned, looked over his shoulder and smiled at me. About two months later, I got a MySpace message from him asking how I was doing and I noticed this girl wasn't on his top friends anymore.

It turns out real rock stars don't like clingy ladies who cramp their style. It's been a couple months since I've talked to him but I know we'll always be friends. I have another story about the lead singer of a popular local cover band who broke up with me in a text message after I found out he received his 2nd DUI and was going to jail. But, I won't share that ridiculous story as he was in a cover band and-- let's be serious--he wasn't a real rock star even though he sure thought so.

Backstage and Underwhelmed: Taking A Stroll Down Memory Lane

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