Fan Fare You, Too, Can Be Hounded Like A Celebrity - If You’re Willing To Pay For Your Own Groupies

These days you don’t have to wait for your 15 minutes of fame; you can buy them.

For $150, Rent-A-Fan Club clients can hire groupies guaranteed to gush, swoon and, of course, beg for autographs. And for an additional $50 to $75, the company will throw in some paparazzi complete with flashing cameras.

“The recession is over, people have money and they’re hiring fans again,” said Lissa Negrin, the club’s creator, who also is a Cher impersonator. “Depending on how much money people want to spend, they can rent mobs of screaming fans all with Polaroid cameras who are begging for autographs and fainting.”

In the 16 years since the company was founded, the firm has “fanned” all kinds of people - from housewives to middle-aged businessmen still harboring rock star fantasies. But Rent-A-Fan Club also has worked for some budding celebrities who haven’t yet earned their own bona fide admirers.

“Once we were hired by this not-yet-famous actor who wanted to convince this film director he was hot, so he hired us,” Negrin said, explaining that the two fans showed up the Beverly Hills Hotel where the actor and director were meeting. “We were wearing poodle skirts, letter sweaters and were screaming. We got escorted out of the hotel.”

Before each encounter, Negrin writes a script incorporating relevant facts from the client’s life. That way, the fans can yell out personal facts about the customer’s life, making the whole experience seem truly celebrity-like, she said.

Last week, as Agoura Hills, Calif. insurance underwriter Paul Krajeski dined on smoked salmon at the swank Pinot Bistro in Studio City, he was startled by two screaming fans.

“Oh my God! It’s him! It’s Paul Krajeski!” shrieked Maureen Lawrence as she ran over to Krajeski’s table. Lawrence and Rent-A-Fan Club’s Therese Lee, both professional actors, were hired to swoon over Krajeski at his 50th birthday celebration.

“I have a picture of you leaning against your blue Infiniti,” said an excited Lee, holding her hands over her heart. “I just want you to know it is the highlight of my life to be here with you.”

Without skipping a beat, Lawrence then chimed in, “You are even more gorgeous in person.”

She then turned to Lee and said, “Oh my God. He’s so gorgeous I can’t stand it.”

Krajeski turned bright red and started sweating profusely as the two fans shattered the calm reserve of the normally elegant bistro. His four young daughters looked mortified. But a few minutes into the act, Krajeski started to enjoy all the adoration and a grin broke across his face.

He signed autographs effortlessly and for a second seemed almost like a real celebrity.

But almost before they began, Paul Krajeski’s 15 minutes were over.

“I loved the attention,” he said, smiling at his wife, Pat, who had hired the fans for him as a surprise. “It makes me want to be famous.”

Pat Krajeski saw the company’s listing in the phone book and decided it was the perfect way to mark her husband’s first half century.

“I thought it would be great for him to get some recognition,” she said.

In the 10 years since Lawrence began gushing over strangers through Rent-A-Fan Club, she’s grown philosophical about the experience.

“Average people don’t get this kind of adoration,” she said. “But everybody deserves fans whether they’re famous or not.”

Krajeski, meanwhile, is still coming down from his quasi-celebrity experience.

“It was wonderful, truly wonderful. I loved how they kept repeating my name,” he said. “I know everybody in the restaurant was saying, ‘Who the hell is Paul Krajeski?”’