Sinking Solo
When I first moved to San Francisco, lured by the promise of a new beginning and lovely flower children, one of the first things I encountered was the encouragement to step outside the boundaries that had been set for me by my parents, teachers and social leaders back in Texas. The distinction was very clear, one was either hip or one was a straight. Straight people did as they were taught and did not question. The hip people questioned everything and made a big deal of doing so. To be hip meant that you must go outside your safety zone.
This is a story about safety zones.
Randy and I went to a very hip party that was strange in that, for over an hour, no one talked and no music played. Everyone sat on the floor in a circle and passed a few joints around. All we did was stare at each other, but in a friendly and interested way. Later in the evening it turned into a more traditional party, but people who had checked each other out in the circle now freely chatted already having gotten past awkward social mores. Randy connected with a young soul sister who was a cross between Angela Davis and Carmen Miranda. Randy preferred an exotic woman. He always talked about how wonderful they smelled.
A nice-looking guy with shoulder length hair who was sitting near me came over. We talked for a bit, and he asked if I had ever done films. I wasn't certain what he meant, but he explained that he meant erotic films. He thought my clean, innocent look might be perfect as a "solo" for his porn company. Jerking off. The money was surprisingly good. I said I would think about it. When I told Randy, he said he would do it if I didn't.
I did agree and I was very uncomfortable at first, getting undressed, trying to find a position among the paisley pillows. Apparently "uncomfortable" was exactly what they wanted. I was fresh and unspoiled. Getting erect was not easy and they finally resorted to a guy whose job it was to help issues like that.
Once I got into the mood, I found a surprising aspect in myself. I became bolder, and an exhibitionist side popped out which I had not previously encouraged. The camera and the people melted away, and it was just me doing what I had spent ten years perfecting.
I got applause at the end and they asked me back for another solo. They didn't know that, in my head, the most wonderful bebop trio started playing as I came. I did return for a second film, but that session did not go so well. I am not an actor, so trying to recreate the natural reactions from before was a disaster. They did not ask me for a third. I had sold one of my many virginities and I would never get it back.
However, it was nicely documented, and many years later I happened upon a copy of the film which I purchased with delight. I love that film so much. I wish I could have that in my high school yearbook instead of the picture that is there.