John Waters why won’t you love me????
I planned on seducing John Waters. Why? You ask. Well two reasons really, one: he is fucking John Waters and if you are going to swallow a load why not one from someone you’ve looked up to since your teens. Two: So that every time I watch his movies, and trust that I watch them a lot. I can lean back in the chair and simply say “fucked him.” to the awe and maybe repulsion of my peers around me. In fact I have a list of celebs from some of my favorite 80’s and 90’s movies that I want to have sex with for just that fact. As I waited in line to finally meet the Pope of Trash, the Sultan of Subversive Cinema I had a plan formed. But then out of the blue I was triple dog dared to kneel, and address him as Prince SummerFall WinterSpring. Which if you read his book ‘Role Models’ you would know that name is one he is quite fond of. I had not fully yet read ‘Role Models’ yet, even though I knew our meeting was coming a few months ago. I wanted to wait until the book bore my name and his signature, then and only then would I read it. That was my first mistake. How foolish I had been.
Last year I met another one of my icons – Meg Foster. You may know her from several things, like John Carpenter’s They Live. I remember her from “Masters of the Universe” the He-Man movie where she fiercely portrayed the live action version of Evil-Lyn. Using my charm and humor I explained with a minimum of gushing how young, lonely gay Eric obsessed over Evil-Lyn. Using Meg Foster’s performance as a springboard for how I thought fierce bitches should be. You probably have seen the movie, but I doubt you have examined it as I have. Watching her gazes, the sweep of her arm, and the delivery of her lines all perfection. She was extremely gracious to me at our meeting. Considering this was a near thirty year old movie she only did so her son could see her is something. And she did something celebs rarely do at these conventions, she came all the way around her table and gave me a full –on real hug. There was truth in her hug, and I knew my charm and humor had won over an idol of my youth. My charm and humor however did not win over John Waters. Because I never even got to use it! I was nervous meeting Meg Foster, but I was far more nervous, to the point of nauseas to meet John Waters. I build things up in my mind because I am a writer. Every meeting or conversation I have with someone is usually preplanned in my head. If I call you on the phone to discuss something, chances are I’ve already had the conversation in my head. So did I think John Waters would find me hilarious, ask me to meet him after his show and then whisk me off on an adventure worthy of one his movies? Hell yes I did. I have wit, charm and a big penis dammit.
My big penis was not enough in the scenario. The triple dog-dare was to kneel down, address by the name above and pronounce my love. This did happen, and there is video proof of it. He responded with a smile and a very sweet ‘thank you.” This is where it goes down hill. I stand back up and slide my ‘Female Trouble’ cover art over for him to sign. Now did I tell him how important ‘Female Trouble’ is to me? Did I tell him that it was the first and for the longest time only movie that I came across where it was okay to be gay. If you’ve not seen it (and shame on you) the marvelously over the top performance of Edith Massey as Aunt Ida is Oscar worthy. In the film she begs her nephew Gator to please be gay. “The world of heterosexuality is a sick and boring life.” It was like rays of sunshine had poured into my dreary gay life. You mean it was okay to want to suck off every boy at school? For the record at no point in ‘Female Trouble’ does a character promote sucking off every boy in school – but I read between the lines. Did I tell John Waters how much the movie helped me overcome some inner turmoil I had. ‘Female Trouble’ as a life affirming movie – who knew, but maybe he would tell me a story of another lost gay whom it helped. Maybe he would say it was the first time he heard that and inquire further.
Sadly the above conversation did not happen. What happened was; he asked me my name. I said it. He then asked ‘do you spell that with a C or a K’ and I went mind numb and just thanked him for asking and said C. — I thanked him for asking how I spell my name??? Talk about losing your cool. See I said the ‘thank you’ in a way that probably seemed like no one had ever asked me anything before in the history of the world. I was the first person to ever utter the words ‘Thank You.’ – I hated myself. This is the man who hangs out at bars I am too afraid to go into. This man wears clothes that get him laughed at and he doesn’t blink an eye. And my simple, overly-enthusiastic ‘thank you’ was going to be the ammunition to secure a possible bedroom tryst???? Oh gentle reader it gets worse….
I then slid the already signed copy of ‘Role Models’ to him. He opened the page and saw his signature leering back at him - “Oh it’s already done.” – I then giggled and asked if he could personalize it. GIGGLED, like a stupid fucking Japanese school girl. Did I smoothly make a joke about not being some Ebay whore, and wanting it to be addressed to me to make other people envious? Did I make a joke about being such a bad fan that I made him work twice. Nope, I just fucking giggled. (I hope this is not on video – though it might be.) I GIGGLED!
We then posed for our picture in which he thanked me for coming out, and I said “no thank you for coming here.” – Smooth right. Did I take this last moment with him to quickly regale him with the story of the time I and friends went to the Holiday House, the biker bar from his film ‘A Dirty Shame,” yes it is a real biker bar, though not as rough and wild as you would think on a Thursday night. It took the few patrons that were there a moment to adjust to us but then hell we fit right in. We even helped a toothless woman celebrate her birthday and ate her store bought birthday cake with her. Only in Baltimore, am I right? I think this story would have amused him, maybe even got him to comment back or tell a quick story of his own. But nope, I smoothly just thanked him like a damn yokel and wandered off, head still spinning from being in his presence.
That was a sure fire attempt to seduce the great John Waters am I right? I am sure he has no time for giggly faggots who get on one knee. My attempt to seduce him was doomed from the beginning I learned after reading ‘Role Models’. It is highly unlikely that he would bed a random fan in line. I of course knew this on some level I am sure, but my penis is capable of amazing things. You know kinda like Harry Potter. Also retrospectively he, I am sure, was not pleased with my outfit. I am a khaki shorts and polo type of fag – if this was Cry-Baby, I’d most likely be a square, daddy-o. Though I do suck cock like a teenage rebel. No I am sure my buttoned down preppy looking shirt and khaki shorts bombarded his senses and offended him. I am sure my fumbling nervousness was obvious and I am sure on some level John Water was thinking, “Pull it together faggot.” But I will try again….I will carry on my quest to seduce him. Maybe not all the way to the bedroom now, my snafu out of the seduction gate my never be corrected. But a drunken blowjob in a back alley in Baltimore sounds good. Or maybe even just a real conversation in which I could actually convey how much his work means to me – and then a blowjob.