So I had this girl roommate Margie in 1986. Actually 3 girl roommates in 1986. Margie's sister and Stephanie. Margie and her sister (can you tell I can't remember her name yet?) "Laura" were the type of women that men were VERY attracted to. Crazily attracted to. Now, they weren't Playboy type girls, Margie was a little bookish, and "Laura" was a tomboy, but the guys were CRAZY for them. Not good crazy. One day this long note appeared on our door step written in a shaky, childish hand professing pages and pages of love "to the girl in the red sneekers" and way too many details about her daily habits. Needless to say she snuck out the back door for a while.
The main thing I remember about living with them (besides the endless hours of "The Lion and The Cobra" and endless piles of pizza from Stephanie's job) were Margies "flashing" stories. She was flashed more than anyone I ever met."Aww, c'mon Margie, AGAIN!?" To the point I thought it was a cry for attention. Or like a Snuffleuffagus kind of thing. Maybe Chicago has changed a lot since the 80's, but a lot of women I knew were flashed on a pretty regular basis. Maybe they still are, but I never hear about it. Not that I really want to know.
Anyway, Margie and I went to see "Sid and Nancy" at the old Three Penny on Lincoln. I still love that part of Lincoln and it's lingering ghosts and notorious past. This was before they chopped it up and it was still one big theater. The movie starts, and I notice a guy pacing back and forth behind us. So I stand up and glare at him, and he sits down. A few minutes later, I see him stroking the biggest tool I've ever seen in my whole life. "I'm not seeing that" I think calmly to myself. "That's a bottle of coke he smuggled in."
"Brian, do you see that? Look!"
"What? No, I don't see anything. That's a magazine. Watch the movie." But, of course, I did see it. I just was so into the movie, I didn't care. Gary and Chloe WERE Sid and Nancy. And I had just read "...And I don't want to live this life" and all the press at the time about how pissed Johnny was that he wasn't consulted about a movie of his own life. So I was very excited to be there, and a big scary boner wasn't going to stop it. After a few minutes, he left. And after the movie, I apologized to Margie, and listened to every scary boner story with the complete attention and love only a roommate can give.
The next day I tell a co-worker "I saw 'Sid and Nancy' last night."
"How are they?" she asks. After a confused pause I say "Dead."
1 comment:
Why didn't you get his number? And you wonder why you're single.
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