Committing diehard fandom to the kind of celebrity who goes through life being trailed by TMZ cameras is sort of like adopting an untrained dog. You go into it knowing the rewards are great, but the road will be rocky. You'll want to throw the towel in, to yell, to give up. But you won't — because when you get a dog, or find your star, it's for life. John Mayer is mine.
Through the cringeworthy interview with Playboy in 2010, the postponed Born and Raised album in 2011, the cancelled tour in 2012, and even the brief stint as a comedian, I've stuck by him. He hasn't always made me proud, but you know what, that's unconditional love. So, when it came time for his revival, I knew 2017 would be his year — and I would be a part of it.
The news of the launch of his seventh studio album, The Search For Everything, was exciting, but I was more concerned with crossing his upcoming tour off my list. When the online box office opened at midnight, I was there, ready to purchase the best solo seat my bank account could handle. (What, you thought I'd bring a date?)
Once I had my email confirmation, I turned my focus to the thing that would make me stand out to John in the crowd. Signs, merch, face paint — that's the stuff of amateurs. No, I needed something unique, something no other fan would think of. Something like a special perfume.
The universe, it turned out, was on my side. As a direct result of my positive manifestations, a destined email popped up in my inbox a few weeks before the show: a PR pitch for Child Perfume ($98). You might not have heard of this fragrance — it's relatively obscure — but I know it well. How? Because John Mayer loves it.
Back in 2010, Mayer was on the cover of Rolling Stone, and he delivered one of the strangest interviews of all time. Weaved in between all the talk of masturbation habits and a Vegas woman named 'Dimples,' readers learned a fun fact: Mayer is really good at identifying scents — on women. Mid-interview, he paused to ask a passing group, “Excuse me, can I be rude and ask you a question? Is somebody here wearing Child?” And as luck would have it, one woman was, in fact, wearing Child. That is the unique blend of charm and douchebaggery that makes the man who he is. Some hate it. Some say, "Aw, that's Johnny boy for ya."
So, I felt it was fate to not only have that very Rolling Stone cover framed in my apartment, but to also have easy access to a bottle of Child and one ticket to his show. My coworkers taunted me, saying, "He's off-brand. Liking John Mayer is so ten years ago." But their negativity only fueled me. I doused myself in the juice at the office before heading out to Madison Square Garden.
Though my seats weren't front and center, I held out hope that Mayer would find me in the crowd. The potent notes of the exotic white flower and erotic essential oil blend would drift up to the stage and stop him mid-note. He'd pause, his cover of “Free Fallin’” would come to a halt, the crowd would stop in confusion, the screaming would subside, and John would look out into the crowd to ask, as he had seven years earlier: “Is somebody here wearing Child?” I'd raise my arm and he'd wave me up to the stage, where a security guard would help me up. Forget "Free Fallin'" — he'd transition right into "Your Body Is a Wonderland."
Well, the plan was foiled for reasons unknown. The show came and went without John placing my scent in the midst of all the sweat, beer, and lesser perfumes. But that's alright! I have tickets to two more of his shows this summer. One is even in our shared hometown, which will make for a much better meet cute to tell our future... child.
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