In the parking lot of the Sheraton Hotel where Justin Bieber is staying, the female fans are bored. To maintain their sanity, they scream or argue with one another – for example, when one evil fan calls Bieber fat. ("Fat? No way, he's a babe.")
Even the paparazzi have calmed down after having scuffled with the silky-haired teen icon. Barak Pachter, Prince of the Paparazzi, didn't show up to photograph, but to provide analysis for the Channel Two cameras.
He started with "One-two-three Miki and Yaakov," and then started complaining about Bieber. It would seem that the paparazzi hate the stars that made it overnight even more than the cultural critics.
In the end, he returned to his motorcycle, rested his backside on the seat and his feet on the handlebars. And from that reclined position, he waxed on about his frustration: "I shot him coming out of the restaurant. The international agencies offered me less than $50. And here? It's barely worth NIS 50."
After 100 young girls arrived on Sunday, those that stuck around are disappointed. Lior, 14, has been waiting in front of the hotel for two days straight. She sleeps for two hours a night. An argument immediately erupts with another girl who contends that she sleeps only one hour a night.
In any case, none of them have even seen a hair on the head of the star. They complain that the hotel only allows them to go to the bathroom in the basement of the building. "Stinky bathroom, it barely even had a faucet going for it."
Bieber's security guards act tough, but it seems that they like the girls, who are surely more interesting than the businessmen that generally frequent these kinds of hotels.
Suddenly a rumor makes the rounds. One girl starts to scream, and all the rest follow suit: Justin is at the spa! "Oh my god, he's topless!" one of them screeches.
The girls worship every single thing that comes out of the mouth or Twitter feed of the teen star. In the spat between Bieber and Bibi, it's obvious who they choose.
Stav says, "I'm against him meeting with Bibi. What, is he supposed to be a world leader, to make peace? As soon as he supports Bibi, it's like opposing Obama. And what about his fans in the Arab countries? Bottom line, Justin doesn’t know from politics, he's a 17-year-old boy."
Why is he only a boy? You're younger than that.
"You can marry someone if the age difference is five years. That's like the difference between my uncle and aunt."
One of the fans tells Guy Pines' cameras that she was pushed by Bieber's security guards. As evidence, she presents her hand, which looks completely fine. "The guard did this to me. I only entered the room a little bit."
"A guard beat her. Is that story-worthy?" one of Guy Pines' team checks in with him. In the end, the item wilts on the vine. "Even when actors from the show Casi Angeles were here, the guard pushed me," she says. "I'm an abused girl. I'm not even a fan of Justin."
It seems that everyone, not just this girl and Benjamin Netanyahu, are trying to ride the cute singer's glory. Publicists working for Israel singer Amir Benayun sent a short press release, claiming that he had wrote a song on Bieber's attitude, even though the song deals with an entirely different subject.
I go to get a sip of coffee, and by the time I come back, everything is changed. All of the girls are crying. What's different is that they're weeping overt the phone. Apparently, Justin went out to meet his fans. "He touched my hand," one of them says.
"It's fate, its fortune. He looked me in the eyes," another says. "This looks like the scene of a bombing attack," one journalist comments.
Jackie Pitousy, the owner of an Ashdod wood shop, comes along to pick up his daughter Shir'el. She's weeping on the banister, near some Bieber-related magic marker graffiti. "You would think the pope touched her hand," he says. But Shir'el goes on crying. "When I was young I idolized Tina Turner, but nothing like this."
Jackie puts his arms around his daughter, still holding on to his car keys. Then comes the mistake. She yells: "Don't touch my hand, that's Justin's hand."
Offended, he says: "Damn it, I'm your father, I serve my life to you on a platter, and you tell me not to touch your hand." "Touch this hand, not that one," she replies angrily. "Unbelievable, a kid releases one song on the internet and he makes 30 million dollars," he remarks, visibly amused.
The journalist and I get a solid tip from a cook, according to which Bieber was travelling southwards, and we begin to run. "He'll probably go to the beach," she says and we run to the beach. It was a mistake. There was no one there. And then, a wave of fans runs down the beachside Yarkon street.
Apparently Bieber went to McDonald's. By the time we get there, he's gone, but the staff is still buzzing with excitement. Louie Abu Qaoud was the fortunate clerk. He sprays some Windex on the window and boasts: "Bieber ordered a Big Mac, hold the pickles. He asked for a yellow balloon, so I gave him one."
I return to the hotel. One of the fans seems interested in my work. She's studying communications in high school. "I aspire to become the IDF's spokesperson," she declares.
Would you still be a fan of Justin Bieber then?
"As IDF's spokesperson, I don’t think I would be anyone's fan."
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