I’m sure I’ll have some eventually. I was wondering what you guys do to handle yours? Do you have to provide T-shirts or do they generally make their own?
Really? And on the International Day of the Woman.
Oh dear. Is this really a topic for a G-Rated forum? 
You supply the T-shirts, but they have to bring their own plaster?
You have got to be kidding??? 
You were doing good with the whistle questions.
Hello, invite 'em backstage for tea and crumpets of course 
.
First of all, who says groupies have to be women?
Secondly, I am kidding. My humor seems to be a bit miscalibrated at times, but the thought of an amateur whistle player with groupies was very funny to me. I apologize for offending the good folks of the forum.
In truth, I can’t even get my wife to be my groupie… can you even have a groupie of one?
TMI … 
Okay, no one wants to hear of groupies who aren’t women. Leave that for the Flatley tour. You are a married and a hetero, so quit kidding around.
As for your wife she will be your groupie once you can rip off a few songs like “Whiskey Before Breakfast”, or “The Irish Washer Woman”.
Oh yeah, she will be putty in your hands.
In the immortal phrase of Inigo Montoya: You keep using that word. I do not think it means what you think it means.
Assuming the topic is really “fans” and not “groupies” …
In my old bluegrass-y band there was a girl who came to nearly all of our concerts. She would sit front row center, then sing along with every number. Loudly. Very loudly. And off-pitch. A real dilemma.
We eventually had “the talk” with her. And yes, I think she got a free T-shirt out of us. 
Mine come without T’shirts!
All I need is a calendar for proper time management!
In my youth I was a member of a band which rejoiced in the name of “Norman’s Fabulous Cousins”. We prided ourselves on being “the number one band in Aberdare” … and then The Stereophonics came along … 
(BTW, I played electric fiddle, with a fuzzbox, wah-wah and phaser, plus doubling on signal generator. Ah, those were the days! )
Annyhoo … we used to have these girls who would follow us about to gigs. We got really good turnouts to our gigs, could have gone somewhere with that one … ah well … And then there was the memorable occasion at (can’t really remember where, but we’ll say it was …) Brynmawr Leisure Centre. We’d done the first set and were being fed by a pizza place just near the venue before going on for the second half, which was always where it got really lively. And then this bunch of dressed up, heavily painted (and somewhat exposed ) young ladies made a beeline for us at our table.
I remember being about as scared as I’ve been in my life, and simply dropping my pizza and, literally, running away being chased by a couple of these young ladies. I probably wasn’t cut out to be a rockstar.
Just a few years ago … After a dinner event at a local Irish pub, a few of us headed back towards the bar and sat down for an impromptu session. What we failed to notice was the group of very attractive women thronging the bar. A troupe, it turns out, of Irish dancers touring the States, and maybe a bit homesick for a real pub.
Which means that by time we started playing (with me on guitar), they were all completely blotto.
Long story short … Before long I ended up with a very lovely lass sitting on my lap and playing with my hair while I somehow managed to bang out the chords to “Fields of Athenry” and whatever else they called for in a mass drunken sing-along. “Do you know ‘Whiskey in the Jar’?” “Why yes, yes I do …”.
Which pretty much put paid to our session, except for the others noodling the songs. They were compensated by watching me squirm and fluster under the imminent threat of being fondled to death by my lap lass and several others. Anyone who knows how shy I often am in public … well, you had to be there. But I don’t flatter myself. They always go for the guitar player, eh? And after a few more pints, they would have found the Elephant Man attractive.
Sure they weren’t “thonging” the bar?
I don’t know … I didn’t peek.
But if you mean were they wearing flip-flops on their feet … no, they weren’t. 
would make a great strapline.
Whistle groupies 
. My, my, but we are a delusional lot! 
A glimpse into the fantasy world of tooters. 
MTGuru, I loved your yarn about the Irish Dancers mssing home, obviously they might settle for “any port in the storm” as the pints were flowing freely.
Inner Light- your comment on the “frauleins” coming without T’s and you needing a calendar for “time management” put a huge smile on my face. Of course Dee, like MRGuru, you were most probably playing guitar at the time and not whistle. Ya know, you axe bangers are not the only “shredders”, Crawford and Finnegan rank right up there with Van Halen and Satriani. 
Cheers,
Cayden
How do I deal with groupies?
I wake up.
Of course, my real solution to this hypothtical dilemma can be summed up in one word.
Surrender.
Cheers you dreamers,
Cayden
Take Warning Ye Whistle Virtuoso’s - The incredible Trad, grand craic, and most importantly, the mass consumption of deliciously dark pints can cloud one’s visual accuity. NOTE; Not all whistle groupies look like Andrea Coor. Especially, the next morning. EeeeeeeeeeK.
Cayden
Ooh, Andrea Coor. I’d love to be one of her groupies… 