Mom, can I quit my job and become a roadie? No?

I am in love.
With three men.
At the same time.
I met them yesterday. That's OK. Right?

And, well, I don't mean to burst anyone's bubble. But I'm positive they love me back.

Just, uh, don't tell my friend, Erin. Besides, it's her fault anyway.

So the ladies and I (and a very cooperative fiance) piled into Eleanor, the trusty Cavalier, Tuesday night and high-tailed it to Madison. Awaiting us in Wisconsin's fine capitol was a club. And at that club - Rediscover, an "indie/powerpop" band from Erin's homeland, Toledo.

Sure. I can handle "powerpop." I mean, I don't know much about it, but Erin had me convinced her friends of Rediscover were the most fabulous thing since the invention of the bagel toaster.

She was so right.

I can't tell you the name of any song they sang. I can't tell you how long they've been a band. I can't even tell you their last names. But I can tell you Wesley, he's tall. Oh, and gorgeous. And Rob, that lip ring. Whoa. Then there's Mike. Sweet Mike. Hot Mike.

I don't think I've felt so 15-years-old since this.

If it hadn't been for the fact that Erin actually knew these guys, we would have looked like borderline roadie wannabes. We sat in their "tour bus." Of course by tour bus I mean giant white van equipped with a TV, video games, blankets and the strong stench of sweaty man. But nonetheless, there we were. In their van. We giggled. We had "eye conversations." You know, the kind of conversations girls have that consist only of glances, wide eyes and nods?

We had a beer with the band before the show. Several beers, actually. We took pictures. We bought CDs and t-shirts. They signed them for us. We blushed.

When Wesley sang - and Mike played guitar - and Rob banged the drums - we danced. Like children. We waved, they smiled back. And winked. We were pretty much the only people in the entire club, but it didn't matter. We were groupies. A fan club. Dare I say pals?

In reality, the boys... er, men... of Rediscover are just like you and I. Or just like me and my friends. They're young. They're laid back. We hung out at the bar and laughed in very much the same way I'd do on an ordinary night with ordinary people. But to us, for the night, they were rockstars.

R-o-c-k-s-t-a-r-s.

And we, well, we were their roadies. Even for just one night.