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Director Quentin Tarantino, left, with actor Brad Pitt. (AP Photo)
My 80's Heartthrob & The Virus That Hit Quentin
Mon Jul. 04 2011 10:45:25 AM
If you had the chance to have some sexy time with someone you weren't at all attracted to, would you do it? Now, what if that person was famous? Before you answer, I'd like to talk about an email that has recently gone viral in which one woman tells the story of her crazy night with Quentin Tarantino. It contains unflattering (and yes, slightly humorous) details about Mr. Pulp Fiction including anatomy descriptions, tales of toe-sucking and a not-so-sexy photo of the two of them making out. It's also clear from the email that right from the start, she really didn't find Quentin all that attractive or endearing. Reading about this conjured up memories of a slightly similar situation I found myself in once. A million years ago I was asked to be an extra on a film and although I'd never had any aspirations to act, I immediately said "Yes". My reason? The star of this movie was an 80's heartthrob. (Cue your favorite 80's soundtrack now.) Although I never really had a crush on this particular 80's heartthrob (I was more into moody boys like River Phoenix or gender-bending dudes like Prince), I certainly understood why others had been smitten with this particular actor. In his heyday, he had a cute, boy-next-door kind of appeal. He had a sort of romantic, kindness behind his eyes. Or at least that's the way he came off on the big screen. When he sauntered on set on the day of the film it was clear to me that he was just a liiiittle past his prime. Despite that fact, I have to admit I was thrilled. It was a long, boring day so in between takes I found myself trying to catch his eye. And after awhile, I could have sworn that he had checked me out a few times too. Then, it happened. As I was leaving, he stopped and hesitatingly (charmingly) thanked me profusely for coming out to be a part of the movie and I wandered away, feeling a little bit, well, starstruck. Many months passed and through some strange sort of twist of fate, I met someone who had worked on the film who told me that Mr. 80's Heartthrob had randomly mentioned how much he wished he had asked me for my number. After I got over my shock I said, "Well, give it to him!!" A week later, I got a phone call from Mr. 80's Heartthrob. The first few conversations were nerve-wracking. How do you casually talk with someone you already kind of know a lot about without it sounding like an interview? But once I got over the initial weirdness, we started a nice little phone/email relationship. Sometimes our conversations were sweet, other times they were spicy, other times unfortunately, they were just short. Although I told my friends about him, some of the juicier details I kept just for myself. And then he offered to send tickets to me to come to his L.A. home for the weekend. My first thought was "Hell yeah! What a fantastic story this will be!" But then I stopped to think about it. I knew that if I accepted, I was entering into a sexual agreement of sorts. This is not to say that I don't think that I could have gone and not had sex. What I am saying is that I recognized the expectation and knew that I would be naïve not to acknowledge that. This wouldn't have been a problem except that I wasn't sure if I was actually attracted to him or if I was more attracted to the idea of him. In other words, if I said yes – I suspected I would have been doing it for "the story" more than my own desires and that made me feel grody (don't look at me that way - someone needs to resurrect that word). So I declined the offer and predictably we fell out of touch. The girl who spent the night with Quentin, has a different story to tell. It's clear that right from the beginning she calculated every move in order to have a juicy tale to tell her friends. And although she only sent the email to 15 of her nearest and dearest, clearly she never saw this. I don't mean to sound precious about this but what the hell is wrong with the world when someone is willing to have a sexual encounter in order to have a funny/wacky/gross celebrity gossip tale for her friends? Have we really gone from desperate tales of "rubbing elbows" with Hollywood to desperate emails of "bumping uglies" with Hollywood? Although Quentin is a big boy who I'm sure knew to some extent what he was getting into I couldn't help feeling a little sorry for him. It's not like Quentin is some hot athlete, gorgeous actor or charming politician who we all secretly know needs to be taken down a few ego notches. He's actually kind of an awkward nerd; albeit a nerd with money who's made some great films – but a bit of a nerd nevertheless. I wonder how we would think about this story if it were some guy who plastered insulting details of his dalliances with anyone famous who is seen as "less than attractive," if he insulted her body, her genitals and her sexual kinks all for the delight and amusement of his friends. I think we would say that guy was a misogynist. Or a narcissist. At the very least we would say that this man makes other men look bad. And that's kind of the way I'm feeling about this woman now. Whatever she is, she's definitely not this.
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 This Week's Show:
June 16, 2011 Topic:
Thursday, June 16: Commitment phobia Could it be that you're sabotaging your chances for love? MoreAdvertisement
 
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