One of the hazards of spending the better part of your adult life in nightclubs is that you often attract fly-by-night friends who are drawn to your glittery allure–which means that when someone comes along with more glittery allure, these heat seekers won’t even throw a glance your way.
Years ago, a friend of mine was a part-time bar DJ.
We had already chatted that night, and, as usual, I was planning to go back to his booth for updates and kiki sessions as the event progressed.
But on one of my visits there, a British pop star happened to be standing around and my DJ friend was gabbing him up, his eyes radioactive with starlust.
My friend looked about six feet off the ground as he got to shmooze someone who was really famous–an inspiration, plus a name he could drop and dine off for years.
I stood there for a long time, thinking, “Naturally, he’s going to introduce me to the star.”
It certainly would have helped me since I happen to cover stars–plus it would have been polite, not to mention a way for him to let me know he doesn’t play the totem-pole game.
Besides, I’d brought him to stuff and introduced him to people.
And I was clearly wilting as I stood there, awkwardly looking dissed and distraught.
But it turned out I had to just keep on doing so as he continued to freeze me out and burrow up the ass of the way bigger name! For a long time!
Lesson learned! Or was it?
A year or so later, I became friends with another starry-eyed guy whom I hung out with about three times a week.
Well, I was at the very same boite when this friend walked in with a mega famous fashion photographer.
My friend must have been in heaven because he was fashion-star-crazed and even happened to be dating a designer at the time.
(In fact, that’s who he’d undoubtedly met the photog through. But being able to hang with the guy alone, and to do so in public, must have been positively orgiastic for him.)
And to my shock, he acted like he didn’t see me!
We were besties on most nights, but this time I was supposed to stand back and realize that he had bigger fish to fry–or perhaps he felt that acknowledging an association with a controversial columnist might hurt his standing with somebody more important in his stardust-blurred eyes.
(I’m just projecting here. I have no idea what was going on in his addled mind. All I know is I was shattered.)
Of course, this being the nightlife era, these issues were never discussed.
But trust me, the “friendships” were never the same.