Holocaust Revisionist
Alternative Title: The stupidest thing someone interested in me has ever said
The first show I was ever cast in was for the Vampyr Theater. Mainly, it was a vehicle for the main actor/director to chew on the scenery with Nosferatu fangs, but it was good fun. Every night I got to dress up, prance around in garters, seduce an older woman, chew on the necks of several assorted victims, and then kill a baby. One of my fellow cast mates was about my age, but had already been married and divorced. One night she begged me to come with her after the show. A guy she had a serious crush on had asked her out for drinks, but he had a friend. Could I play wingman? I told her there was no way that I would ever be allowed into a bar. Pictures of an 18 year old Bunni reveal a girl who looks about fifteen, not 21.But she assured me she knew people who could get me in. Sure enough, we sailed by security and into the bar. I hadn’t though about asking where we were going. The bar was called the Pit Stop, a hard core biker bar. While we were there, two of the women got into a vicious fight over a balding man in chaps missing teeth who cheered on the fight. My girlfriend’s man was attractive-long straight black hair, tall, high cheekbones. His friend, however, had frizzy hair, a big nose, and eyeliner tattooed onto his face. He asked me about a drink and because I had been cautioned about NYC bars, and this one didn’t look to safe, I accepted only a soda. Why he became interested in me, I can’t say. I can only guess that my body and my youth overwhelmed the fact that we had absolutely nothing in common. How I managed to even pretend to chat with him for an hour or so, I can’t imagine. Luckily the music was loud so I could do a lot of smiling and nodding. They walked me to my dorm afterwards, and Eyeliner insisted on getting my phone number. I was too nice to give him a fake one and not yet fast enough to invent an excuse. A week later he called me. I had just gotten in from watching the film Schindler’s List. We chatted for a while. He asked what was up. I mentioned the film. “Oh,” he said, “The Holocaust…That was terrible…That wasn’t in this Century was it?”
The first show I was ever cast in was for the Vampyr Theater. Mainly, it was a vehicle for the main actor/director to chew on the scenery with Nosferatu fangs, but it was good fun. Every night I got to dress up, prance around in garters, seduce an older woman, chew on the necks of several assorted victims, and then kill a baby. One of my fellow cast mates was about my age, but had already been married and divorced. One night she begged me to come with her after the show. A guy she had a serious crush on had asked her out for drinks, but he had a friend. Could I play wingman? I told her there was no way that I would ever be allowed into a bar. Pictures of an 18 year old Bunni reveal a girl who looks about fifteen, not 21.But she assured me she knew people who could get me in. Sure enough, we sailed by security and into the bar. I hadn’t though about asking where we were going. The bar was called the Pit Stop, a hard core biker bar. While we were there, two of the women got into a vicious fight over a balding man in chaps missing teeth who cheered on the fight. My girlfriend’s man was attractive-long straight black hair, tall, high cheekbones. His friend, however, had frizzy hair, a big nose, and eyeliner tattooed onto his face. He asked me about a drink and because I had been cautioned about NYC bars, and this one didn’t look to safe, I accepted only a soda. Why he became interested in me, I can’t say. I can only guess that my body and my youth overwhelmed the fact that we had absolutely nothing in common. How I managed to even pretend to chat with him for an hour or so, I can’t imagine. Luckily the music was loud so I could do a lot of smiling and nodding. They walked me to my dorm afterwards, and Eyeliner insisted on getting my phone number. I was too nice to give him a fake one and not yet fast enough to invent an excuse. A week later he called me. I had just gotten in from watching the film Schindler’s List. We chatted for a while. He asked what was up. I mentioned the film. “Oh,” he said, “The Holocaust…That was terrible…That wasn’t in this Century was it?”
posted by Bad Bunni at 8:07 PM
1 Comments:
If I've seen it once I've seen it a thousand times ... silent but deadly eyeliner poisoning. Such a sad way to go really.
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