I love Bruno Mars.
I don't love him the same way I loved Leonardo DiCaprio in 1997 or Dustin Hoffman in 2010 or my husband today. I don't think he's particularly good looking, though I wouldn't kick him out o bed for eating crackers either. And while he is a talented singer, talented singers are a dime a dozen these days (though it should be noted that he has the voice of an angel).
Image via Glam UK
So then what's to love about him? Does he have a good personality? I don't know. Is he a generous philanthropist? Probably, but wouldn't you be too if you were rich and famous? Does he remind me of Michael Jackson? Actually yes, but that still doesn't explain why I love him. At all.
I just do.
In November of 2010, Bruno Mars was just emerging onto my consciousness. Approximately 86% of music played on Kiss FM was feat. Bruno Mars, and he even had a few hits all on his own, including "Just the Way You Are," wherein he informs the world that he loves me, just the way I are. "Grenade," had just hit the charts, and I swooned over his ability to hit those high notes and his willingness to put his hand on the blade--for me. In November 2010, I had my eyes wide open (why were they open?) to Bruno Mars.
My friend (we'll call her Amanda) and I caught wind of a Bruno Mars appearance at a local suburban Douche Club. The flyer read "Bruno Mars, whose debut single, "Just the Way You Are," clinched No. 1 on the Billboard Hot 100 singles chart, hosts Chicagoland's hottest party!" We were in.
Image via Webster V.I.P.
See? It really did say that.
The tickets were only about $20 each, which we considered a steal, considering cover at the Douche Club was usually about $10 without a Bruno Mars appearance. I bought a ticket for Chris too, despite the fact that he hated Bruno Mars, Douche Clubs, and everything else about the experience. He sulked behind us while we yelled out the lyrics and foamed at the mouth, like it was a Beatles concert or something.
Images via John Barleycorn's Facebook page
After only about 4 songs, Bruno exited the stage. We thought maybe he was taking a break, or he was teasing us and would do an encore, but then some Douche came onto the stage and announced that "Bruno will be hangin' wit you in the VIP area! Enjoy the musical stylings of DJ Douche for the rest of da night!"
We clearly hadn't had our fill of Bruno. We had had our fill of tequila sunrises though (I'm never drinking those again). So Amanda suggested we go hang wit' him, since we were invited and all. We made our way over to the VIP area, which was just a corner of the room that had some couches, and saw Bruno himself chillin' on a couch. Several large bouncers (the stereotypical Eastern European type with hairy forearms) stood between us and Bruno. We waved at Bruno. He smiled and waved back. We turned to each other and squealed as if he weren't sitting right there watching us. We stepped forward to hang wit' him on the couch, but Boris #1 sidestepped right into our path.
Let it be known that Boris never actually spoke, except to say "No photos" in Serbian, nor did he ever use force to prevent us from accessing Bruno, other than to block our path. We weren't rabidly storming the barricades or pawing at the air in his direction; we were too drunk for that kind of coordination. Instead, we did a slow and artful performance of the awkward-walking dance, or same stepping, according to Urban Dictionary.
Meanwhile, Chris stood back, leaning against a wall, wishing he didn't know us.
A hot chick came up behind us and slipped past Boris. They nodded at each other, and she was officially hangin' wit Bruno. We same stepped with Boris again, but he wouldn't budge. We called out to the hot chick and asked how she had gotten through. She actually was from Eastern Europe (either that, or I had had way too many tequila sunrises), because I couldn't figure out what she was saying. It seemed as thought she were only mouthing words and smiling, but no sound was coming out. Maybe this was all an elaborate scheme to confuse Bruno Mars's most pathetic fans!
Why did these people get to hang wit him?? WHY?
After a few more rounds of same stepping, we saw Bruno rise behind Boris and walk away with his posse, possibly to leave the club, or possibly to go to another VIP area that wasn't swarming with foaming-at-the-mouth fans. We'll never know where he went, because as he passed by, Amanda touched his elbow and snapped a photograph with her phone.
This seemed to anger Boris.
Suddenly Amanda was lifted off her feet and escorted to the door. "But...my friends!" she exclaimed. "I can't leave them!" Chris and I followed behind as two bouncers forced her down the stairs and outside. I chugged my tequila sunrise before realizing that finishing it was a pipe dream. I left the half empty cup on a ledge by the door and followed her out.
The bouncers kicked her to the literal curb without so much as a "and don't come back, now!" and when the valet driver brought us our car, Amanda regaled him with the harrowing tale. He clearly wanted to hang wit her as much as Bruno did, and we finally got her buckled in so Chris could drive us home.
The photo of Bruno on her phone was a blur of flesh-colored light. It could have been her own arm or Satan's buttock, for all we could tell.
Was it worth wasting half a tequila sunrise for? No, it was not.