As the other band members paired off with any number of gorgeous girls, we chatted for a while and I really, really tried to see the good in Bass Player. This wounded bird of a musician, whose bravado and ego really only highlighted the emptiness of the man inside. I started to warm towards him. When it was time to go, we walked back to his hotel, holding hands and talking about what he had wanted to do as a child (surprisingly, Rockstar was not his first choice). Maybe this egotistical, vodka-covered, slurring, hairy mess of a man might not be so bad after all.
We stumbled through the door and he carelessly threw me onto the bed. He crawled on top of me and shoved his tongue into my mouth a few times. I guess that was the entire pre-show entertainment, as he then stood up and fell over while shuffling out of his skinny torn jeans. I sighed as I finished undressing myself. Well, I thought to myself. I’m here now. I’m sure the girls will love hearing about this one over eggs Benedict and bloody Mary’s tomorrow. I glanced at the clock. I could probably finish this and still be home before sun up. Predictably, the rest of the show was incredibly dismal and short lasting. I’ve heard rumours that prolonged drug use can affect the size of a man’s package…. and about half way through when I realised that actually – yes – it WAS in…. I confirmed those rumours are true.
Unpredictably, he spent the entire brief occasion holding my hands or my cupping my face, gazing into my eyes like some lost puppy (or terrible, misguided Casanova). I wasn’t expecting that. Nor was I expecting him to roll over afterwards, kiss me dismissively on the forehead and tell me that was ‘nice.’ And I absolutely was not expecting him to then murmur the words we all want to hear after sex…’Pity I have a girlfriend’
And that is the memory that is ingrained into my head every time I hear my favourite song now. A pathetic, naked, weak, shell of a ‘man’,struggling to understand why suddenly I was getting dressed and leaving him behind. ‘But I didn’t cheat on YOU!’ he called out indignantly as I slammed the door behind me. Sorry, buddy. We are a sisterhood. You might not have any integrity, but I do. And you weren’t even good in bed.
Some fantasies are better left in our heads.