As I wrote a few weeks back, in one of my prior relationships, the woman I was seeing and I had a standing agreement where we each had a list of 5 ‘Get out of Jail Free’ hook-ups. Of course, these were of a celebrity/actor/actress/model/musician type. This meant that if either one of us harbored an opportunity for a rendezvous with one of the five, no questions were to be asked. My list of five was firm and strong but it never included one famous female with which I was smitten more than the other five. She was too special. She was my #1 and too good to be blemished on any list. I had a gigantic crush on this musician/actress in the late 90s, to the point that I told many of my friends that I was going to move to Los Angeles, meet her and marry her. And, well, I did meet her. I will not divulge her name as to protect her privacy (and also the following tale occurs whilst she was married to another and the story includes not her husband. Not a fan of lawsuits).

However, I will mention that the story includes, and revolves, around Lenny Kravitz. Now, Lenny, to me, is the coolest man on Earth. I like his music, although it isn’t my favorite, but I enjoy it. To me, Lenny has always epitomized the essence of cool. Perhaps it’s because I’ve been bald (shaved) for 20-odd years and he, on the other hand, has enjoyed Numerous incarnations of hair styles and pulled them all off.

I had a nice stint as a journalist in the early aughts and did some freelance music journalism work and it took me to some great shows and I met many great artists. One of these instances was Lenny Kravitz performing at The Wiltern. Through a friend and colleague, I was able to obtain an interview with Lenny, backstage before the show. So, I arrived to The Wiltern an hour and a half before his show, displayed my backstage pass and proceeded backstage.

I’m not sure I can give proper gravity to my experience backstage that night. I went backstage triple digits number of times during those years and saw many cool, horrifying, mystifying and unusual events. But on this night, I experienced something different. I may have been the only male, beside Lenny, backstage. I shit you not, when I tell you that there were hundreds (I cannot stress hundreds enough) of women backstage. Tall, short, brunette, blonde, red head, Caucasian, Asian, African-American, Sri Lankan… you name the background and they were represented. I’d walked into Noah’s Ark of females. It was almost like I’d walked into Billy Baldwin’s dream in Flatliners, although none of the women were interested in meeting me and every single one of them was looking, hoping, and waiting to meet Lenny. I nearly fainted from dizziness as I did circles upon circles to make sure I saw every single woman.

I take it back, there was another male backstage, a stage hand. He found me lost and dazed, and grabbed my arm to lead me to Lenny’s dressing room. I must have looked like a catatonic patient caught in the headlights of an oncoming freight train. But, I pulled myself together. And the stage hand led me to Lenny’s dressing room.

When I arrived to the dressing room, the door was slightly ajar. I knocked, cautiously.

“Mr. Kravitz? Kevin Andrade here for your interview.” I eeped out.

“C’mon on in man.”

And I entered the dressing room. I walked into an amazing and horrifying sight.

Lenny was making out with my #1.

I was crestfallen. I can’t believe my knees didn’t give way, almost as much as I can’t believe I didn’t stab him with my ball-point pen. They stopped making out when my presence became evident. She immediately blushed, walked over to me, introduced herself (as if I didn’t know who she was) and softly took my hand. I croaked out my introduction as I tried to hide my horror.

Lenny approached and shook my hand. He grabbed #1 around the waist, kissed her neck, patted her backside and told her he’d meet her after the show. Smiling, she touched his face and exited the dressing room and my life.

In spite of that debilitating start, the interview went very well. Lenny was and still is, the coolest person I’ve met. He was funny, nice, charming and had amazing hair. I couldn’t really stay mad at him, even though he’d yanked out my heart like Om Puri in Temple of Doom. I also got over my disappointment with #1. I mean, it was Lenny Kravitz. And she just didn’t spend enough time with me for me to wow her with all I bring to the table. I don’t really know if there’s ever enough time for that.

But still, sometimes when I hear ‘Lady’ or ‘Are you gonna go my Way?’ I remember the Night of a Thousand Females and the loss of my innocence. Oh well, que sera sera.