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Groupie Love

Last week I attended the Bruno Mars afterparty at Manor West to see my girl from Vegas, and somehow wound up *wing-woman-ing another friend at one of his VIP tables with members of the Hooligans. I’m not even gonna lie, I felt slightweight “special,” but while I enjoyed the free alcohol, and not having to stand in the middle of a sweaty dancefloor – I FELT AWKWARD AS FUCK.

I knew what everyone else was thinking, and what the dudes were hoping. To answer your questions now, I didn’t wake up in a random hotel room with coke on the table next to me, and my bra on the chandelier (sorry Jey lol). I didn’t even oblige to a good-bye kiss when asked, but I did manage to meet some cool people, and keep them company while still keeping my dignity. Like my boy said half jokingly the next day, “You know what some women have to do to get that wristband?” Actually, I do.

Because with male celebrities, musicians, and athletes, comes two different kinds of women; groupies and fans. Unfortunately, some people don’t seem to understand that there is an actual difference between the two.

To make it even more confusing there are different types of groupies. There are those who want to fuck a dude because they simply are that dude, and have no real interest in their talent or craft. And then there are groupies who solely want to fuck him because of his talent or craft. Either way they wouldn’t look twice at them if they were just some average Joe on the street.

For the most part, my only exposure to groupies have been through gossip websites and reality television (leave my guilty pleasures alone!). I’d see girls flock celebrities at clubs, but I never saw them actually get down. Then, over the weekend a friend of mine told me about the conversations he’d hear from basketball wives, girlfriends, and groupies courtside at Warriors games. Stories of women who’ve slept with at least 90 men in the business, and tips and tricks on how to to nab a NBA player. It was pretty painful to listen to.

I’m not gonna go in on groupies, to each their own (except for the ones who knowingly fuck men in relationships to which I say GET YOUR FUCKING OWN!). If a woman is comfortable and genuinely happy with their groupie lifestyle, hey, do you boo-boo. Dare I say it, own that shit. Because the only thing worse than a groupie, is a groupie who doesn’t think she’s a groupie. No sweetie, all that makes you is a picky prostitute. I believe every woman is entitled to a one free groupie pass lol, and don’t believe that just because you sleep with a celebrity it makes you a groupie. But to do it for a living? For the lifestyle? I can’t even fathom.

Despite the lewd and sexual comments I make regarding men on this blog, I don’t think I could actually go and fuck any of them. Lord knows I’d love to. I mean my Plan C in life is to marry an NBA player, but I be thinking I’m too good … for my own damn good. I rather be the girl that Lance Moore falls in love with, than the girl his dick falls into. Yeah, I know. I’m an only child with a ridiculous imagination ok? But even when I met TIP who I’ve said plenty of times I’d be a groupie for, I was almost too shy to even take a picture with him. My roommate still gives me shit for it ’til this very day.

Maybe I’m not good enough to get boo’d up by some celebrity, but at least I’m able to say, “I’m good.” Ladies, it’s not that I think I’m any better than yall. I think yall are better than yall. And even if Kobe Bryant or David Beckham is cheating on his wife for you, you’re still cheating yourself.

*when I say wing-woman-ing i don’t mean she was trying to get with someone in Bruno Mars’ clique. She’s actually friends with one of them and just didn’t want to be at the table by herself.

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