Confessions of a...

ORIGINALLY PUBLISHED MONDAY, APRIL 17, 2006

Confessions of a...

Well, I just finished the book Confessions of a Video Vixen by Karrine Steffans in less than twelve hours today. That included the eight hours of sleep, and the two and a half hours I dedicated to other things in my life.After waiting on the book for so many months from my local library, I was surprise to find the narrative a quick read. (Though, many of my friends suggested that I would have had gotten a more intimate feel if I had held out for the audio version.) It proved to be well-worth the wait with an all-star cast from all walks of the music and sports and entertainment industries. And although, some of the names I’ve heard prior to the book being published (in passing from my friends (of both sexes) who know firsthand to the ever-churning rumor mill) about their—let’s just call it—sexual stamp, I can’t help not to think about the countless women that has a similar story to tell. Going by the hard trends of rumpshakers making their debut or veterans reloading for the next video, there will be many more stories to flood the industry. No doubt.On top of that, I can’t ignore the countless men that goes through a mirrored treatment, if not better or worse, particularly if they are involved in same-sex liaisons. Of course, these guys aren’t rumpshakers (not in those videos anyway) but they are usually found throughout the industry be it behind-the-scenes or in the infamous entourage. So I have been told—many times over.As much as I hate to say it, I do have some friends (male and female) hailing mostly out of New York that are members of what I like to call the Platinum Groupie’s Club. At first, I used to think that they name dropped or dropped hints about our favorite celebs (as it is in most cases) to impress this southern boy. It wasn’t until I witness firsthand their fruition in this club and became a recipient of some of their hard work in that club that I actually started to become a believer. Believe me, I’m not easily impressed or convinced.They get the perks of first or second or third wife (or husband in some cases) that can range anywhere between getting a little help on the rent to a brand new car. One female admirer upgraded from mistress flying coach to first-class fiancé. A male friend of mine was able to milk out a half-million dollar condo and a Ferrari from a preacher he was dating. Different story all together.Back onto the topic. Some of these so-called friends have been anxious for me to jump on the bandwagon, saying that I could be a shoe-in if I would hit the gym and add some style to my dress. I, too, know that if I tightened up my body tied in with right grooming techniques that I might be passable enough to mesh right in as a sugar son to a noted sugar mama or part of a hip-hop entourage. I would be lying if I didn’t say the perks of being tied into the glamour life wasn’t appealing to me, particularly when my wallet is nothing more than a lint trap these days. But then I have to ask at what cost am I willing to pay for such ‘luxuries’?I’ve seen some of these same people get turned out by that lifestyle. They will do anything and everything they have to just to stay in it. From being called out of their names to being physically and even sexually assaulted. Some of these people later admitted to being pimped out, which I am coming to understand is very common with both sexes and goes far beyond Street Corner Hustler Theory. As one of my female friends explained to me recently, “women are used like currency in many aspects of the industry. The old adage ‘you scratch my back I’ll scratch yours’ heavily applies as ‘I’ll give you a ho and we can work out a deal’. If Dr. Phil thinks the porn industry is an exploiter of women he hadn’t seen anything in the music, sports and entertainment industry.” Each [industry] have their own standards of tolerances, as it was told to me, but overall they are just as equally as bad. Men are subjected to these same conditions except they seem to flank the women’s treatment from the best of times to the worst of times. It could be the same, but I always get the impression that men get both ends of the stick (no pun intended). There are men that cater to women and get the buttered end of the bread. An escort associate of mine told me to reread Michael Baisden’s The Maintenance Man to get a snippet into his world along with two other books that aren’t coming to mind at the moment. He said that Malcolms and Teddies were common for women not married, between marriages, or women not satisfied with their marriage. Because of the double standards of society and the potential scandal, most women in the spotlight refrain from putting themselves out there like that. Besides, there are enough free man-whores to prevent such a tragedy. They just have to know how to conduct themselves. However, those women swinging on the success branch don’t seem to mind. Some even wear their defiance like a badge of honor in some circles. Because most of these men have dominance over their counterparts providing them a service that isn’t sociably acceptable they are usually given priority treatment.Then, of course, there are men that cater to men. I don’t know about picking up the phone and calling up a gigolo (anything is possible), but I do know from my big mouthed friends (love y’all so much!) they do exist in numbers within the various industries mentioned. That isn’t a revelation, of course, just a confirmed fact. But what I didn’t know was that because only a select few make the cut to know about this glamorous world, are being “pimped” the same way many of the ladies are. They are being spread around like softened butter on toast in the same circles, so that nothing gets out—well, at least lack of name(s) attached to the various sexual acts. And I can truly appreciate that—the confidentiality aspect of it.I can see now some of my friends looking at this and shaking their heads. Hear me out! Not everybody needs to know everybody’s business, including what goes on behind closed doors, particularly if it is occurring between two (or more) consensual adults. That doesn’t say however that what goes on behind closed doors can’t be discussed or even (on reasonable grounds) speculated on.In which I am doing talking about brothas being spread around like softened butter on toast. According to my PGC friends, each industry seems to have different protocol standards. The sports industry is notorious for its DL Syndrome and its Opposites Attract Syndrome. My boi tells me to think Kyle and Basil from Just As I Am. On a societal plane, who would think the epitome of masculinity would surpass a shapely, beautiful young woman for a feminine man? Unfortunately, I don’t have friends that don’t roll in the entertainment (movies, etc) industry, but I do know that the music industry is a little bit “wide” open. If the guy is blatantly femme, he is usually cast in a behind-the-scenes office position: Out of sight, out of mind, and certain not to stir any controversy. Therefore, they are never looked upon. Those that catch my interest (for the sake of the blog) are the hardcore thugs that never would get clocked. I’m talking (figurative speaking, of course) Big Tommy and Black; Red and Kane; Lot and Nut; or any other niggah that might have you piss in your pants in fear of their macho presence. What’s surprising is that some of these hardcore brothas are being bartered just like these sexy sistas in the rumpshaker videos. Not only to perpetuate the machismo image associated with the industry to hide their sexual tendencies, especially in the music and the sports industry, but from being a part of the “life” the industry has to offer (in the likes of fine women (or men), fine clothes, fine money, etc) to break into the industry. My boy from the Bronx talks about an East Coast rapper who makes members of his entourage give him head on tour after having his way with female groupies. Another one of my boys from L.A. talks about being hemmed up prison-style at an all-male sex party thrown by a well-known gang-affiliated West Coast rapper. A friend of a friend suggests that his cousin acts as a front man to mask his relationship with a football player boyfriend while a baseball player travels cross-country to frequent a gay club with his suspected outed lover. There was even a mild-spread rumor that someone gave up the ass to sign a record contract. Of course, the record deal screwed him over likewise the way that he probably got it. It would be wrong not to say that these men were not knowingly bartering a service. Some did it just to see if they could do it to reaping a great benefit from employment (working behind the scene, in office, in production, in front of the mic or camera) to being the so-called “wifey” performing all duties required.My boy from the Bronx wanted the personal glory of getting his fill thuggish rapper(s). My boy from L.A. thought that the established rapper could hook him up with a record deal because he believed that he had the flow and the production team to bring the West Coast back to the mainstream. All he needed was an endorsement and support, not being violated. And it wasn’t like he could go to the police station and say he was rapped by the rapper and his gang, especially when my boy was also engaged. It shouldn’t matter, but unfortunately it does. That friend of a friend’s cousin wanted financial backing to start his own business. I threw in the bit about the baseball player because it was just interesting to me along with the alleged rumor.It doesn’t always apply to the star of the show. Most of the time, it isn’t him. He can’t really take that chance unless he has some security from those closest to him. Like someone has just as much to loose from the situation as he does—being outed being the in the top five. The other is that he has become such a pro at what he does that nobody even bothers to bat an eye when he entertains the hoards of women to even think that he can even look at a man. But like I said, most of the time it isn’t him. It is those very close to him. Life, for example, Artist of the Year (AY) might have a bodyguard that is gay. So, AY takes care of his man that will take a bullet for him by hooking him up with a little shorty from around the way. Another example is being a popular record producer who might be trying to break ground for a new artist. His new artist’s weakness might be a third leg. So he hooks him up. Three of my good friends are always telling me that because of my bisexuality I can fair very well in the music industry. Behind the scenes, of course. Because I’m so open with my sexuality I might not be able to swing major players such as current hit maker, but I will still be noteworthy in the entourage, if not with someone else behind the scenes. Financially, it can be a blessing and a killer, keeping up appearances just to roam in those materialistic circles. If not, you will get dropped unless you can obtain a sponsor. A few of my friends are hip to the sponsorship program.There is only one person I know that took the money they were given and invested it. Fortunately, it worked out for them, and they are doing extremely well. I’m trying to contact them now for a small loan. (Call me, if you’re reading this.)Please, don’t even get me started on emotional, mental, and romantic aspect of it!I think about a strong relationship one of my guy friends had with a then up-and-coming music artist that ended once he pounded out his first major hit. He had begged me to come up to New York to console him, but instead he came down to Atlanta to cry on my shoulder. Or one of my ex girlfriends (we’re sociable friends) who got involved with a B-List R&B singer who played with her mind so bad that she could no longer differentiate the truth from the lie, which was heartbreaking for me to watch this intelligent black woman fall prey to such foolishness. Knowing what I know and watching my PCG friends, and reading Yizette’s life (hopefully Karrine’s new beginning), I don’t think that I can fully understand why? Why be subjected to that life and mistreatment. I mean, I know there is more to it than the things. They can only go but so far. It is a need, a want, a desire to ultimately be loved by someone one in some sort of fashion along with security. A supplement for love like fatherless boys find in gangs. But is it worth it? And is it worth trying to seduce your friends into that lifestyle? Or even others, flashing the “glory” of it all?I think about the young girls and boys, young men and women, watching and memorizing the lyrics from their favorite artist, and say they want to be like that rapper or that rumpshaker because of what they think they have. Again, I must ask at what cost?