Names Withheld (but easy to figure out)

Santa came early this year. Last night at the bar, I got to fulfill one of my bartender fantasies (as mentioned in this posting)… I got to tell an underage celebrity that she couldn’t have a drink. I’m not going to say which one, but she’s a TV “star” on one of those shows with all the pretty young people having difficulties while wearing bathing suits (and she was mentioned hypothetically in that very post).

She was there with an absolutely awful band from L.A. who personify everything wrong with L.A. bands… completely obsessed with image, artlessly aping classic rock riffs and bringing nothing new to the table. The lead singer even took off his shirt (trust me, it wasn't hot). They blew, but not as much as the following band, a concoction fronted by some guy from Rock Star Supernova, a show which I had heard of, but never seen. Apparently it’s American Idol with “rock” pretense, but this guy seemed every bit as vacuous as any Idol contestant.

It’s always interesting to see the crowd that comes out for a band that sprang from the Tee-Vee. One of the craziest nights at the bar ever was when the band Flickerstick from the VH1 reality show Bands on the Run played. People were acting as if the Beatles resurrected and were playing the tiny room. Girls were snapping photos, cheeseballs in gold preened, thinking they were in the presence of cool and one sycophant was even heard to say that she couldn’t eat her dinner because she was so nervous being so “close to a rock star.”

Um, I’m not sure about this one, but I think one of the pre-requisites for being a rock star is to have an album out, which at that point, Flickerstick did not (They do now, though… their debut can be found used on Amazon for $1.81).

The point is, people who are awed by non-bands like this are people who do what TV tells them to. They don’t (or maybe even can’t) put any effort into developing their own tastes, music means nothing to them, at least in comparison to the tinny sheen of fame that TV applies better than anything else.

Anyway, back to the girl. Word spread through the club that she was there, although I wouldn’t have recognized her if she weren't pointed out to me. I will say that she wasn’t obnoxious at all, and even kept a cap on her wee head, somewhat hiding from the crowd. But she was also drinking a beer, and it suddenly dawned on me that I’ve seen her mentioned on the list of underage Hollywood clubbers. I got confirmation from Lauren (who knows about such things) and just waited.

She finished her beer and came up to the bar to order another. Taking a breath and relishing the moment, I asked for her ID. She paused for a second, stammered that she didn’t have one and pointed out that she’d already gotten a beer.

Not from me she didn’t, and I told her that I couldn’t serve her, at which point she kinda stomped away, perhaps cursing the backwards mentality of the wilds of New Jersey.

I was not trying to be (and hopefully didn’t come across as) a jerk. I was just doing my job. The law states, you gots to be 21, not 21 or on The OC. She no doubt called me an asshole and probably got another drink from someone else at the club at some point, but that’s okay. I am an asshole; I did get some sense of satisfaction in bringing a spot of perspective to the pampered state of celebrity. A teensy tiny infinitesimal temporary spot, but hey, you take what you can get.