Thursday 19 April 2001

You want Mariah? You talk to Tommy!

In the May issue of Talk Magazine is an article of A.J. Benza who described meeting Mariah back in 1997:

I had heard Tommy Mottola and Mariah Carey were having difficulties and that the songbird was looking to fly the coop. And, in fact, there at the nightclub was Mariah huddled with New York shortstop Derek Jeter on what turned out to be the first night the future lovers ever hung out.

But I didn't let it interfere with my mission. I was friends with Mottola then and had told him I'd help his wife out. I threw back my fifth gin and tonic and headed over to the velvet couch where Carey, Jeter, and a bunch of her friends were sitting. "Okay," I said, "I got direct orders from your husband to talk to you. You okay with that?"

"Oh great, another one who takes orders from my husband," Mariah shot back. "Listen, I'm my own man," I said. "I just want to talk to you a little bit and clear up some of the bad press you get". "And how do I know you're not going to give me more bad press?" "Because I already arranged it with your husband what we're going to talk about and all," I said, "It's gonna be fine." "So, let me get this straight: You and him decided what you and I are going to talk about?"

Jesus, this one was a tough nut to crack. But suddenly I was falling for her and I didn't give a damn who her husband was. Or that the Yankees' star was sweating her as I leaned over him to get some quotes. It wouldn't have been the first time I fell for a woman in a nightclub. "I have to ask you about your marriage," I said. "We on the record or off?"

"We’re off, way off" "We're fine," Mariah said, "People want to spread rumors and cause trouble. But we're fine" I knew she was lying like a rug, but I was going to write that her marriage was fine just so I could placate my new friend Mottola. With the weight my column carried around that time, I considered it a tremendous service to the little big guy. Maybe it was the gin talking, but I looked at Mariah Carey the-and I just dove right in. "Listen," I said "I want to call you sometime, but I don't want to have to go through the Pentagon to do it. You ever come down from that Ivory Tower? You're 26, for God's sake." She laughed, but it was a good laugh, and I walked out of the place with Mariah Carey's phone number in my back pocket. I jumped into my Benz, put the top down, and listened to Sly Stone sing "M Lady".

Who was cooler than me? A week or two later I decided to give Mariah a call, but when I dialed the number she'd scribbled on the napkin the answering machine came on with a routine from the Jerky Boys CD. I dialed again and got the same thing. Stupidly, I called Mottola then, to find out what was what. "Tommy, I'm trying to get a hold of Mariah to ask her a question about an item I'm writing and the number I'm dialing..." Mottola cut me off real fast. "What’s the number she gave you?" I read it to him "Listen to me," he said, "That ain't the number. Throw it out. If you want to get to Mariah, you call me and I'll get her for you. Understand?"

"Sure," I said. "No problem." At that moment it dawned on me Mariah Carey had given me a number, a private number, that her husband wasn't hip to. A few minutes later she called me herself. "You told Tommy I gave you that number?" "Yeah, what did I know? I just thought it was a service or something, and then I heard that Jerky Boys stuff and I didn't know what was going on."

"Listen," Mariah said. "That is my number. He just hates when I get calls that he doesn't clear first." Jesus Christ, I thought to myself. Bad marriage or not, I was being half a scumbag with another guy's wife. I was happier than hell it was a sexy international pop star.

(Talk Magazine)

Many thanks to Regina from Mariah Daily.



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