Dude, girls trashed my car

Several years ago, when I still worked in the music industry, I had what was perhaps one of the worst experiences a driver could have in their car.

After a hectic and very long day spent ushering The Backstreet Boys from one Canadian gig to another, I deposited them at their hotel for the evening and headed home to Montreal. The Boys were set to perform there the next night and I had much to prepare in the meantime. About 3am, I finally arrived home and dropped into bed, fully clothed.

As per usual when bands were in town, the onslaught of back-to-back emails and phones ringing began at 6am - waking me after just three hours sleep. After dousing numerous fires and appeasing a string of demanding reporters, I headed out to meet the band and their entourage at the hotel.

Our schedule of course was jam-packed with various interviews and fan events that kept us moving straight through to dinner time. With bellies rumbling, it was decided we’d head over to a fancy restaurant on St Laurent.

This involved a bit of strategy however.

10,000 screaming girls were stationed at the side and rear entrances of the hotel, as it was customary for The Boys to flee hotels and venues this way. Seeing as the front entrance only had a few dozen fans milling around, I called for my car to be brought around and instructed a colleague who was helping out to do the same. When our cars arrived, we scooted out the front door, heads down, and into the vehicles. No sooner had we set foot outside the doors of the hotel when the small gaggle of stray teenage girls began to yelp. One of The Boys haplessly made eye-contact and decided to take pity and pause for an autograph. As if by mass telepathy, the 10,000 fans posted toward the sides and back of the building descended in a mad frenzy toward our parked vehicles.

We all safely made it inside the cars - but the swarm pounded, bashed, scratched, pulled and shook the cars so much I thought for sure we were done for. The noise was as unsettling as it was deafening. Thankfully, with the help of hotel staff and police, we managed to make our getaway.

I've seen many a wrecked race car that sustained less damage than mine did that day.... Conclusion: teenage girls are more dangerous than race car driving.