Mr. Steal your Girls

Suggested listening - The Weeknd “Losers”

“Where even is Maine anyways?”

Los Angeles, CA. 2015

(Some names have been changed)

It was just another day at the office, sitting at my cubicle staring at Microsoft Excel, logging lines of data into a massive spreadsheet. The data however, just so happened to be individual musical compositions, and the office was Universal Music Publishing Group in Santa Monica. At the time, something as unappealing and absolutely not sexy as spreadsheet management, seemed to be the coolest thing in the world, as I worked for one of the biggest record labels in existence.

This wasn’t like any other office job, no way, this was cooler, it was sexier. The office is by the beach, the interior is adorned with large blown up images of ultra famous artists, Coldplay, Eminem, and Adele to name a few. You get your own large spacious cubicle you can decorate, there’s a pool table, a ping pong table, and there are Grammy awards and platinum records in the hallways.

For a time, working there was the coolest thing in the world, I had finally made it. 5 years of college in Chicago, making meaningful connections in the music industry, battling self doubt, skeptical family members, paying my dues, I had a cool job, and it was in music.

But that’s how they get you, ultimately you’re still a cog in a machine, staring at a computer screen 40 hours a week, drinking subpar coffee, and barely making enough money to live in Los Angeles. At the time, the wool was still over my eyes, I had been seduced by this attainable image of music industry success, I was given a taste, and for a time it was cool, and at 25 years old, I felt cool.

Sitting at my desk, chipping away at work while listening to esoteric hard rock music, I noticed Sonya, the Senior Vice President of Marketing and Communications walking down the hall with a new face in tow. Beautiful brown eyes peeked through strands of dark green hair, her skin a precious pale white like the fresh snow of Chicago I had just escaped from. I was smitten.

Sonya, and this new face approached my desk, I took my headphones out. “Good morning Max!” “Good morning Sonya” I responded, very clearly and obviously paying no attention to her whatsoever, but to this new person. “I wanted to introduce you to Marina, our new marketing and social media person.” Shaking hands with her she flashed me a smile and I knew it was game over. “It’s a pleasure to meet you Marina” I said.

Marina noticed that my desk was covered in show posters and photos of bands I liked, with the most obvious and noticeable being At the Drive-In and The Mars Volta. She gave my desk a look over, and asked me what kind of music I was into. I told her that I really like Prog rock and “post hardcore” punk music. “Really?! I’m more into pop punk and emo, but I love some screamo like Underoath.”

Shit.

Guys are simple, if a cute girl likes something that you also like, for better, and worse, they’re hooked.

“It’s nice meeting you Max, I’ll see you around.” Off she went as she continued to make the rounds of office introductions. Over the next few months, I’d catch Marina eating lunch outside by the koi pond (yes, the office had one of those too) and I’d pull up a chair, have lunch with her and make an effort to get to know this person I was so smitten by.

For someone as forward and extroverted about playing in bands, and making dumb jokes and being a second tier class clown, I am horrible at flirting, and am relatively shy when it comes to approaching people I have a crush on. We were both music lovers obviously, but we both loved, and grew up on the same kind of early 2000’s emo/punk music.

Eating lunch by the pond started becoming a regular occurrence, I looked forward to her coming by my desk every morning as we started the work day, and she giggled at just about all of my awful jokes. I had to stop kicking the can down the road and shoot my shot, I had to ask her out on a date.

The Weeknd, had just released his chart topping record “Beauty Behind the Madness” a combination of sexy sleaze, R&B, and dark pop, it was as the CEOs of every record company would say “a moment in music.” Having worked with the Recording Academy in Chicago (refer to the Justin Timberlake shirt story) I knew people at the headquarters in Los Angeles and caught wind of a secret show happening in Hollywood. That was my in.

I looked Marina in her eyes and asked her if she wanted to go to this secret show together. “Yes! Absolutely, I’d love that.” “Awesome! Can I get a ride?” I may have failed to mention that when I moved to Los Angeles, I still had a Chicago mindset, that meant I had no car, and biked everywhere. In Chicago that might be passable as charming, but picking a girl up for a date on your bike in Los Angeles wasn’t going to work.

The show was on an off day, a Wednesday, for The Weeknd, and off we went. This record was massive, and in the car ride over she had already deduced from her friends that the secret artist was indeed, The Weeknd. As we walk into the Roxy on the Sunset strip, you could feel the anticipation. I said hello to my Grammy friends, and introduced Marina to all of them. (The classic “I’m kind of a big deal”.)

As the lights went down, the curtains opened, and the band kicked off into his hit single “Earned It.” The opening piano chords sent the crowd into a frenzy, including Marina. As Abel Tesfaye took the stage all eyes were on him, except mine, they were on Marina. Marina was grinning from ear to ear, and in that moment my heart was running a marathon.

After the show we went for drinks, she was grateful for the time and was gushing about how good the show was, meanwhile in my head I started second guessing myself. Did I say the right things? Does she think I’m cool? Is there something in my teeth? She drove me back to the office, and my bike. We got out of the car, and my brain replayed the ending of every single awful date I’ve ever been on, every time I’ve ever been rejected, every time I’ve gone in for a kiss and failed.

I have nothing but respect for boundaries, but that sense of caution morphs into distance, I close myself off, and that distance to some girls translates as being uninterested in them, which couldn’t be further from the truth. I had given myself a mental straight jacket.

Marina and I got out of the car, and I felt the pull of the straight jacket. A perfect night, a perfect date, ended with a hug, and that was ok, I’ll see her at work tomorrow.

The next morning, Thursday, Marina wasn’t at work. While that was a bummer, not a big deal, things come up, life happens, I’ll see her on Friday. Friday comes and goes, and so does the weekend. Monday rolls by and in comes Marina. I perk up when I see her walk by my desk and wave. At lunch I find her outside by the koi pond. “Hey dude, where were you these last two days?” I asked. “Oh my god Max, I went and saw The Maine and ended up going to both of their SoCal dates and hanging out with them both nights.”

“Oh…that’s cool. How did it go?” “The shows were sooo good. Can I let you in on a little secret?” “Sure, of course” I said. “I hooked up with-“ No. Not again. This same exact thing happened in Chicago. A friend of a friend and I started hanging out, and talking more, going on dates, and also hooked up with a member of The Maine.

If I had a dollar for everytime someone I was interested in hooked up with someone from

The Maine, I’d have two dollars, which isn’t a lot, but it’s weird that it happened twice.

No office romances, never again.

After work I called Maurice, my old boss from the Grammys in Chicago that I had grown close to.

“Man, fuck The Maine.”

“Again?!” he responds.