Seriously, where are my groupies at?? A friend of mine, who will go unnamed here, used to write a sex column. He would perform different acts for the sake of “experiment” and would then chronicle his experiences, thoughts, and feelings. It was interesting to see him go through it, and he built himself quite a fan base. Even some groupies. Women would write him on a regular basis, offering all kinds of lascivious, brief encounters. Most of them he ignored (they were too disturbing for even a man who wrote a sex column), but a few he took up on their offers.
We used to talk about it. I told him one time, “I don’t know, man. As comfortable as I am having a one night stand, or with practically any sexual act, I think I’d feel a little awkward. Don’t you feel awkward?” He said that he did, that most of the women he ended up going on “dates” with (and I put that in quote because the dates basically consisted of meeting at a bar, having a drink, the girl(s) dragging him back home and fucking his brains out; afterwards he rarely could tell me their last name(s)) had the most bizarre preconceived notions about him. They thought he’d be some sexual deviant, some spiky haired bloke in leather. In reality, he is a short Brit with something of a Hugh Grant personality. He’s a romantic, a shy kid who just wants to fall in love.
When I first got offered this space he and I sat down for a drink. “Well,” he said, “you’re finally going to get your own groupies.” I wonder if this is a common joke or thought among bloggers. (Admission: I hate referring to myself as a blogger. When I think of this space in comparison with the majority of quick hit, snark laden, pop culture observation sites, I don’t see much in common between what I’m doing and what they do. Still, this is a blog.) I laughed with him over the idea of this page having groupies. “Yeah,” I said, “but mine will probably be severely emotionally disturbed women. The kind I generally fall in love with.” But in the back of my mind I thought, “Groupies? No. But. Groupies? Not interested. But. Groupies? Naaaaaaaah.”
This page has become something I thoroughly enjoy. There’s not a lot I would trade it for. It provides me a space to put down the random, messed up, skewed, laden, and usually heartfelt thoughts that can tend to cram my brain to the point of restlessness. The thoughts still run cross my head like a fucking tickertape, but since writing this blog the sense of agitation that generally accompanies these thoughts is lessened. That’s been an unforeseen gift of doing this. And while I really do treasure this page, it’s association with Maisy, and the things it allows me to express, I do sit back at times and compare my experience here with other writer friends who have similar sites or pages and have to briefly wonder:
Where the hell are all my groupies at?