Dating A Rock Star
From: uknetguide.co.uk
 Dating
a rock star may be exhilarating - but seriously, don't bother.
My advice about dating a rock star, from experience, is 'don't
bother'. It may sound an easy ticket onto the rock and roll
superhighway, but it's rubbish in the end. You may have a
good few nights out, get behind the scenes, meet a few famous
people, be the envy of other girls and live the highlife for
a bit, but… Actually scrub that, it is worth it just
for a small taste of stardom, but don't expect the long haul.
For every Paul and Linda, there are ten hundred Paul and
Heathers. But a few months, or in my case a few days, you
can to live the life of Kate and Pete. But remember, the music
comes first!
Now down to the nuts and bolts. There are basically five
types of rock star boyfriends to choose from: the ultra famous,
the has-been, the wannabe, the up-and-coming and the drummer.
Me, I had the drummer – great guy, rich, good connections
but no-one really knows his name, kind of half remembering
his face.
Well onto the ultra famous, the Robbie, the Liam or the Damon.
What you get is, if you are lucky enough, a few great nights
out, a face in a tabloid and good memories. Enjoy it while
it's going and because it ain't going far.
The experience is strange, walk into a restaurant and everyone
pretends not to stare. The staff fall over themselves to help
the Robbie and politely look down on you. The parties are
great, but no-one's talking to you – get used to it –
and you stand there nodding in the background like a Chihuahua.
And when they do try to get pally with you, it's because you
might be able to get them close to the star. Also, you can't
go to the pub with your mates, mainly because they aren't
in Cannes that weekend
What next? The has-been. Just don't go there.
The wannabe is a dangerous creature, often confused at first
glance with the up-and-coming as their markings are similar.
However, the swagger of the wannabe is wider and more exaggerated.
He tries too hard. In my experience of bagging a few wannabes,
they never get far and succeed in losing you friends and causing
messy break-ups, without any bonuses of good parties and champagne.
However, the up-and-coming is well worth finding. Even if
he never makes it, it's worth the ride. You get to live the
dream of gigs in front of crowds of seven, the drama of not
getting a record contract, the launch parties etc etc. Actually
it can be tiresome. My friend spent five years holding on
to an up-and-coming, he even proposed. But in the end the
music came first. Would he leave London with her? Would he
f***? The band comes first.
But that didn't get her in the end. It was him coming back
from tours and pausing before saying how it was, like there
was something he was hiding. And then the band mates stopping
talking and looking when she came in and the flash of eye
contact between them signalling that they had to change subjects
and be careful not to land their mate in the s***.
The one bonus she did get was that there is a song –
just missed the top 20 – about how she broke with him.
This leaves the drummer. My brush with fame and I still reckon
best of the five. I'm not going to name names, let's just
say a world famous band – everyone has one of their records
and it isn't U2 – with a front man who everybody knows
and basically an anonymous band.
I meet the drummer in a bar in New York – a shopping
trip – and we got chatting and he said he was coming
to London in a two week's time. Now, after a couple of vodka
martinis – yes, I was trying to be sophisticated –
I gave him my number, my reasoning being that either he was
actually coming to London and it would be a laugh to play
tour guide or he was lying and I'd never see him again so
it didn't matter.
Well, he came to London and called me up. He suggested a
stupidly expensive restaurant and I laughed at him for being
a hopeless American tourist looking to get ripped off. When
we met up outside his hotel – Claridge's no less –
I worked out that he had a few dollars in the bank. I asked
him why he was in London and he said business, a banker with
a good stylist, I guessed. He didn't mention that he was working
at Wembley in front of 70,000 people.
So we had a good night out. I decided that a rich American
needed to go down the pub. I took him to the John Snow in
Soho and that's where the problems started. Bloody blokes
know music too well and just one had to ask, "Are you…"
My American denied it, but in his accent it was hard to hide.
He came out later and I said it didn't matter. But of course
it did. I started to look at him differently.
It didn't stop me calling in sick for a week and hanging
out with him in London's best restaurants, heading to the
invitation only warm-up gig where everyone was not just famous
but a legend and in the end almost get sacked when I was snapped
by the paparazzi and ended up in the Metro.
And what happened, I never kiss and tell!
My advice. Avoid them all! Start your own band, be famous,
have people stare at you, have your choice of blokes and check
into rehab before it all goes Pete Tong
|