September 29, 2010, 8:21 p.m.
As I write this, you are performing here in Edmonton…and it breaks my heart. I should be there. Sure, I could have paid the money to be there among the gaggles of screaming teens and pre-teen girls (and their mom’s). And sure, I could have ‘experienced’ everything a Justin Bieber show has to offer, but that’s just not enough for me. I won’t have it. You won’t allow me to have what I really want; what I really need.
The first e-mail went out months ago. Unanswered. “Hi So & So, I am looking to interview Justin Bieber in advance of his Edmonton, Alberta stop. Best, Curtis.” Perhaps I should have sold it a bit better. Maybe it didn’t get a response because I didn’t write the right things. Are there right things to write? There might just be…I just didn’t accomplish them. Maybe I should have talked about how you’re the hottest thing to hit the Internet since 2 Girls, 1 Cup (Don’t look at it, Just. It’ll corrupt your mind), how you’ve won countless awards from MTV, MuchMusic, B.E.T, et al. I don’t know what to do to get through to you.
So, I sent another. “Hi there, So & So. I am inquiring about an interview with Justin Bieber in advance of his epic Edmonton, Alberta stop. I am the music editor at an alt-weekly here in Edmonton and believe that this might be a demographic Justin is missing out on. If done correctly, together we might just sell out his show! Yours, Curtis.” I left it 24 hours, 48 hours, 72 hours. Maybe they didn’t get it. Re-send. Tagged: Urgent. Now they’ll get it for sure! And perhaps it’s among thousands of interview requests. Publicity for you must be pretty large project, so I’ll give a while. I’ll just assume the first one went to the junk folder.
August 22, 2010, 3. a.m
While I wait, I watch your videos on YouTube. A lot of your videos. Awesome stuff! Great moves and solid choreography! You seem like a nice enough guy too – actually a really nice guy. Pretty down to earth, just like your songs say. You’re kind of shy, I notice from some of your more obscure videos. I used to be shy too! That’s so cute. I know what you’re going through, it can be tough. And as I think of what I am going to ask, I can’t help but wonder if I’d be luckier if I was a female. Perhaps a 15-year old female? No, that can’t be it. You were discovered by Usher. Surely being twice your age must have its benefits. They’ll get back to me.
August 22, 2010, 6 a.m.
While I continue to wait, I continue to watch your videos. You seem to really like bowling and I like bowling too. If I had the money, I’d offer the girl of a my dreams a sweet diamond ring – the best I could afford, just like you would do. When you sing “Are we an item? Girl quit playing. We’re just friends, what are you saying. Said there’s another, look right in my eyes,” I really felt a connection with you. I have felt those same things before, Justin; I have uttered those same words before. We’re pretty much the same. This is getting ridiculous. I can’t wait to sit down and chat! The excitement is unbelievable. But I’m just excited to meet a new friend. A cool new amigo that I can just totally chill with and be myself with! You know when you watch a movie and think, ‘man, I could totally have a beer with that guy and just have a normal conversation’. I think about us like that. Minus the beer, although when I hear you talk, I do hear the on setting puberty, so we can do that soon. That’ll be rad. This is going to be one crazy interview…
August 28, 2010, 2 p.m.
Time is trickling on by, Biebs. I’ve checked all of my e-mails countless times. I’ve called countless numbers. I contacted the head of Edmonton’s Justin Bieber fan club, who turns out to be some super-lame 12 year old girl who only wanted to talk about how great My World Pt. 2.0, which it obviously is, but she was so totally annoying. Bieber2010forrreva!, as she likes to be known, loved to tell me how you are such a real guy; such a great guy. Sure, a great guy who won’t return calls. A ‘great’ guy who will make you basically shadow and track him just praying to get a glimpse? C’mon, honestly! Anyways, I am starting to think I am the only one who really cares, who ever really did care. What about your real fans? What about your interviews? Who got you to the place you’re at, Justin?
It is getting pretty sad and lonesome (what about one less lonely guy, Justin?). I thought there was something between us. I know you feel it too; I guess you just don’t know it yet. You know that dude, Ryaaan, in your awesome video “One Time”, Justin? You guys are just chilling, playing video games. I could do that! I have done that. That kid has fricken braces, bro. That’s lame. And, yeah, that party you throw at Usher’s pad is pretty sick, I’d say. But man, I know you and I together could have made it a lot better. Crazy times. I know you like to dance. You’re doing in pretty much every video I’ve ever seen. You even have a dance off at the bowling alley with all your boys and boos. We could have a dance off – I’d even let you win! I like dancing. I’m not very good, but I sure try; damn, I try. Oh my god, I’m just going, like, on and on here, we have so much time to talk about this later. But seriously, I’m pretty sure you paid most of those people to be there, anyways. Those are your friends? That chick doesn’t like you for you anyways. Your watch is worth more than her inheritance. What kind of friends are those? Not real friends as far as I’m concerned. And yeah, maybe I’d be considered a ‘pedophile’ if I were to actually attend and attempt to hang out with you and your so-called friends, I guess. Wait a second! There’s Usher again. He’s there. We’re cool; we’re cool.
September 19, 2010 4 a.m.
As I sit outside of your hotel, peering into your swanky room from what seemed like way too far, it hits me: we’re not going to work out. The interview, our future chill-offs, a potential collab, nothing. My friends told me you didn’t like me anyways (and if you hit me back, it would be for the publicity anyways). They went as far to tell me that what I am doing is considered stalking and is very illegal (and really creepy considering it’s with a pre-pubescent male). Obviously they just don’t get it. You get me. That’s what has always been so great about you and I.
Some parts of this just bother me so much. I just wanted a couple hours of Beib time for a meal, perhaps a hang at arcade, a walk, whatever, but no. While you’re off at a local breast-inspired chain restaurant at Edmonton’s famous mall (twitter is a big help in my hunt), I’m here…waiting and wondering. You’re off with some major floozies; I’m sitting here in the wings…like I’ve always done. But no more, man. I can’t take this any longer. You have showed me in each and every way that this is not meant to be. We’re not special anymore. Fate tells me that; that security guard that keeps saying ‘Mr. Bieber doesn’t want to speak to you; please leave the property,’ tells me that. Why aren’t we together, talking, laughing, dancing and partying? Well, I guess it’s not written in the stars. The timing is off. Had we met a different day (or at all), perhaps? Sometimes it just comes down to timing. In the words of, well…you (you always had such a way with words), “Let me show you what your missin’: Paradise. Tell me what you’re really here for, them other guys. I can see right through ya.”
