Flesh and Boredom in Vegas
Part Two
by Chris Best
illustration by Timothy Walker
Last month, our fearless reporter Chris Best plunged deep into the maw of the beast. Unfortunately, he didn’t write about that. Instead, he regaled us with the first part of his account of his trip to the Consumer Electronics Show in Las Vegas, which doubles as a star-studded (and stud-starred) gathering on behalf of the porn industry.
Regrettably, we were unable to include the whole sordid tale in one issue (what journalists term reportus interruptus), so allow us to pick up where he left off.
AN EXPLANATION
I got a ton of interviews. I talked to anyone I could find. One thing I found to be truest is that the closer the person is to the fringes of the porn world, the better the conversation. I’m not talking about small players, but about those who are not in the mainstream. Hey, I got interviews with lots of big porn stars, but printing those interviews would be like printing one-sided small talk. The only good interview moment from that batch was from Kim Chambers:
CB: I hear you’re performing in clubs again as well.
KC: Yes. I’m right here in Vegas through next week at “The Talk Of The Town.” I’m the best there is, so everyone should come down and see me.
CB: (sarcastically) You’re not biased at all, are you?
KC: Yes, I am. I love women.
DEAD PAUSE
CB: So, do you do anything special on stage?
KC: I light my pussy on fire.
CB: How do you manage that?
KC: With FM, baby! Fuckin’ Magic!
CB: How long did it take you to get that trick right?
KC: I got it right the very first time.
CB: I guess you had some incentive.
KC: Oh, no. I’m very sensitive down there.
Yeah, well, that’s when it got good. For the most part, the mainstream porn stars were the window dressing drawing attention to the video company booths. I liked talking to the fetish people, like the woman who worked for Kim Wilde. The guys from Titan Video, where I gave my worst, most unintentionally pun-laden question to porn star York (“What’s the biggest pain in the ass about your job?”), were damn cool. But the mainstream video people were just monumental wastes of time.
With one exception (well, two).
WAITING FOR RON
On my first day at the convention I saw Ron Jeremy, the man, the myth, the legend, the belly. The one interview I had already set up. I caught up to him and introduced myself. The bastard rescheduled my interview for the next day. At five p.m. on my second day, I was dead tired. I was also still pissed off about being slighted by Ron Jeremy. He said ten a.m. I was there. I was on time. Where was he? Maybe he was buffet-hopping from hotel to hotel, or maybe he was getting more hair transplanted from his head to his back. All I knew was that he hadn’t been at the convention all day. So at 5:30, I’m walking out, and in walks Ron. I follow him right back in and immediately ask about the interview. “After I sign autographs.” He then sits behind one of the video company booths with a stack of glossies to sign. The line is huge. After about 20 minutes of watching Ron sign autographs and putting up with some serious attitude from some New York Times reporter doing a piece on Mr. Jeremy, I get real bored.
Then came my opportunity of the day. Standing right next to me was John Wayne Bobbitt! The 20th-century Lazarus himself. To kill time, I interviewed him. Now I wouldn’t go so far as to say that John Wayne Bobbitt is boring, but I’ve had more fun waiting in line at the bank. He did give up a few juicy tidbits. For those who don’t know, Bobbitt started doing porn films that capitalized on his good luck microsurgery. He has stopped making films and has become a priest. Not a real one, a Las Vegas wedding priest. Basically, he’s a justice of the peace. He does get to be called reverend, and no, he has no plans to be a real preacher anytime soon. Why did he quit porn? I had heard that he couldn’t get it up without certain drugs being pumped into his system. His story was that be didn’t want to piss off his mom anymore. From there he rambled on and on about real estate school, his religious beliefs, and his life now. I don’t think he knew what he was saying. He did say that he “expected” to have his penis cut off. How anyone “expects” to have his penis cut off is beyond me. He qualified his “expecting” emasculation by rambling about his Marine Corps training. Frustrated with him wasting my tape, I asked him this: “In one short, concise sentence, tell me what the one major lesson you’ve learned in the last five years?” His answer: “I have to be more sensitive to other people.” He then came back with another big lesson: “Choose your mate wisely.” Adding more to his second lesson, he rambled on about the need for people to separate love and lust when in relationships, that true love is not based purely on wanting “to jump someone’s bones.” I asked him if he has ever found true love, ever. From this I got his only one-word answer: “No.”
Luckily, Ron decided to do the interview while signing autographs. So while he signed photos with “Here’s my monster,” with an appropriate arrow drawn, I was rattling off questions that I didn’t need to ask. The answer to my big question (“WHY?”) was right in front of me. At a convention where the silicone maiden was supposed to rule supreme, Ron Jeremy proved to be the true icon of porn-lore. How and why did this happen? He’s fat, hairy, old and he looks even worse when sweating and grunting in a video. As he’s said himself: “Having a big dick didn’t hurt any.” But even more important, he’s funny and seems like a fun guy. He’s the fat, hairy, ugly guy that all other fat, hairy, ugly guys aspire to, because unlike the rest, his life’s work is having sex. What makes the fantasy sweeter for America’s fat, hairy, ugly people is that it looks like Ron is getting by (partially) on personality. How great is that? In a country so looks-conscious, the idea of a regular guy with all the physical shortcomings of other regular guys being regarded as a virile, well-hung sex machine who gets to sleep with hundreds of sexy women who seem to actually like him personally is as potent a fantasy as a Harlequin novel is to a bored housewife. The line of guys waiting to get his autograph proved my point. Sure, there were all types of guys there, but the bonding technique was the same. The fans treat him like small town folks treat local heroes who escape to the big time. He’s one of them, yet he’s surpassed them completely so he gets respect and reverence at the same time. Some just want the autograph, others want witty additions to the signature. One guy actually requested this: “Could you sign it like: `To Nick… uh… you’ve got a big dick.’ You can go on from there.” Ron signed that, it was his last autograph of the day, and left for Spago’s with John Wayne Bobbitt and an entourage of people I didn’t recognize.
There might have been an expectation that this article would talk about more of the women. Well, lord knows I wanted it to be like that, but that’s not the way it worked out. Though the attractions were the stars, the big issue was the mob of horny guys willing to push and shove to get the autographs and photos of those stars. It was too easy for me to look at them and say to myself, “Good God! Kathleen Hannah was right. We do suck!” But then, I’d say the same thing about Trekkies lining up to meet the guy who played disposable crew member #2 from episode l3, leaving out the part about Kathleen Hannah, of course. As far as I know, she has never slagged off Trekkies or any science fiction fans in public. I’m avoiding the subject, I know. OK, I’ll admit it right now – men do suck, we should be destroyed! Now can I go home so I can watch Dolomite?
