One of our readers tells a story of what happened when she first encountered French Montana after a concert. From the context clues, this would have taken place about a year ago. Be forewarned that there isn't any real tea here, just thought I'd share what landed in my inbox.

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"I have always been a fan of Mr. Montana especially the cut "shot caller". Around the time i went to see Drake on the Club Paradise Tour with Waka Flocka J. Cole, 2 chainz and special guests Coke Boys. I really had a great time at the show because I'm HUGE fan of 2 chainz.

Later after the concert we networked and hung out and smoked a little with 2 chainz "booking agents" who promised to take us to 2 chainz. Now I'm no naive bird so what he was asking for was not sitting well in my book and not happening so we proceeded to leave the room. Walking out of the room we starting to travel towards the elevators and ran into was seemed to be a worn down groupie. Hair everywhere, a liquor stench creeping off her clothes and breath stumbling off the elevator.  She immediately starts rambling about her night, expecting our group of girls were there for recreational purposes as well, so I took the initiative to ask her if she could take us to 2 chainz himself; I mean that was the whole mission was to meet him right? She rambled and said she could take us to meet him after she gets her friend. We quietly followed behind the bird because by the way her hair looked she definitely new where something, or someone was. She takes us to a room where we met Chinx Drugs, where he was getting tattooed and having drinks. The girl disappeared with some unknown boxer brief wearing ass nigga and there we were in the room with Chinx Drugs. Fortunately he was a really cool dude and not an a******, just getting tattooed and not really engaging in the groupie love right before his eyes. Thats until French Montana busted in the room pissy drunk stumbling around in his boxers and brings his tramp he made "pop that" lol  back into the room with us.

Ugh—no need for that! He was such an attention whore trying to get into our faces to see if we recognized him. Um no‚ what we did recognize was that you had 1 shoe off and one shoe ON THE WRONG FOOT and not to mention one sock on and one sock off. But the most disgusting part of this horrible first impression is his big ass stomach hanging over his boxers. Like he ate a turkey or a real life child straight pregnant for real. After he stumbled his ass back to wherever he came from we got up outta there because no telling what that girl was really dropped off in that room for."

So like I said before, no tea here, just someone giving their encounter. I did observe a few things that I would like to point out though. You hung out with a booking agent to get to 2 Chainz? Did you know that anyone could be a booking agent and have literally no access to the artist what so ever?  A booking agent is simply a middle man between the promoter and the management. Just pointing that out for future reference. Then when you found yourself at a hotel, not being a groupie, why in the world would you go back to a hotel? We all know what rappers do when they get back to the hotel. Groupie or not, if you're intending on meeting 2 Chainz at his hotel after the concert, he's assuming you are dropping them panties. This is not the time for a photo op. Then, when you followed a groupie into the Coke Boys hotel room, again, what did you think would happen? If I were in this situation, with no intentions of popping it for a Pimp,  I would have just gone home after the show. My advice for women who are in the industry, or just like to meet celebs and not sleep with them, do NOT under any circumstances go to their hotels after a show. Their hotel room is not the place to discuss business, it's not the place for photos, it's simply the place to drink, smoke and have sex. I hate that it's that way but it is. If anything, French Montana has the right to be pissy drunk in his room surrounded by groupies. That's his element, right? There is no "networking" happening in some dude's hotel room. Save the hotel rooms for the groupies. You do your business during daylight hours. The last thing you want to be is mistaken for someone you're not.