WEST HOLLYWOOD, 1995. We go to my place, the studio apartment where I’ve been living an adventurous year alone, so a friend of a friend can show me a private screening of the Grateful Dead video he’s just produced. A leisurely smoke and a few laughs later there comes a killer back-rub. It would be the perfect evening if I could fall asleep massage-in-progress. Pity I don’t know the guy well enough to not see him out. I sit up. His eyes gleam in meditation. Perfect posture, deep cleansing breaths, a yoga man. On another day a twisty braid would hang from his chin. His intense energy causes an oxygen mask to appear around my head. I exhale Darth Vader style. His eyes beg: take off the mask, breath it all in, baby, I mean really breeeeath. He’s about to run headlong into my invisible mask with a kiss when I say, “Wait, You know I’m seeing E, right?” E, his closest friend. “We can’t fool around.” His eyes sober. Astonished, he takes inventory of my strange and misleading planet: a dozen candles are lit, incense burns, sitar music fills the air, we’re on my bed for God’s sake! “Sorry,” I say. He collects his things and wanders off scratching his head. Not only was this obscenely rude and misleading of me (largely due to my cavernous self-absorption; I lit candles and incense out of habit, during the back-rub I was off contemplating a difficult scene I’d been working on) it was also just plain dumb. And yet one might be surprised to learn that this was not the dumbest thing I’ve ever done.
The dumbest thing I’ve ever done (in my adult life) is a story called, Obscene Callers: Don’t Date Them, and though the piece will never see the light of day (for obvious reasons) some aptly appalled players from the OPB radio show Live Wire created a Haiku version of the story which will air Saturday, February 2nd, 8pm. Everclear and essayist Stacy Bolt also appear on the show.