Yes, the Lil Ox and I were at the BigMuscle party in San Francisco on Saturday, September 23, 2006. We were joined by Geek Slut, The Delivery Man (in a surprise guest appearance from Los Angeles), and about 500 musclebears over 45. My people.
A little later a trailer for the experimental fisting film Folsom Filth was shown, with every one of its stars, co-stars, and walk-on parts on stage standing uncomfortably as we watched loads of motion graphics and about 22 seconds of actual footage. The funniest part was the gloomy, moody music. It was as spooky and piggy as Vincent Price's campy voiceover in Thriller. Except the whipping scene, that was some rough shit. Of course, porn isn't even camp, it's kitsch. The spooky music was meant to set the mood, not make us laugh.
No one laughed, including me. In fact, I was only focused on the fact that Francois Sagat was on stage. I used my telepathic mind-control to have him and a beefy co-star come near us, which they did, and he and his friend were duly surrounded by a group of fans, all of whom wanted their picture with Mr. Sagat. I watched, acting all cool and shit, but really fixated on his bubbly muscular ass (his jeans were pulled down enough to see his rubber jock and tanned ass), close enough to reach out and touch, thinking of course I totally want to hit that shit!, all the while making small talk to the Lil Ox. Stephen came back from the bathroom and didn't know who Francois Sagat was. I pointed him out, and he checked out his ass, then proceeded to simply interrupt the hangers-on and get up in his Kool Aid, saying "Hey, you have a nice ass. I'd do ya." Stephen then returned to our small talk.
I made Lil Ox take a picture of Francois' ass with his camera phone. See, we made it to a first-name basis in my head. His back was to me almost the whole time. Ox, send me the damned picture already.
Then, two losers asked him and his beefy co-star to make out. They did. It was hot, because it looked like they were really into it. They did this for long enough to make everyone uncomfortable, like they'd forgotten they were performing. Then, they simply ceased passionately kissing and immediately mugged for the cameras, in an "I'm spooky" porn face. The transition happened so quickly it was like someone cut to a different scene on the DVD. But what really happened was that they were very good at acting, and they'd given us a little show. The crowd quickly drifted away as soon as they'd taken their pictures of their mugging. It was as if they were smoke, and a fan was turned on, and they all blew away, including the co-star.
Francois was alone, in a crowd of 800 muscular gay men. There were no more fans lining up to talk to him. There was a look on his face, a new one, one not seen in his repertoire so far. In fact, it was so different than "I'm spooky" and "I'm sexy" looks that I had difficulty placing it. He was lonely. I felt wistful, enough to overcome the repulsion I felt at thinking his kiss passion was real. I felt like giving him the stupid, fawning attention that people give beautiful people in front of cameras, just to give him what he wanted. All this in a few seconds. But before I could stop my conversation with Lil Ox, Francois dove into the crowd, disappearing in all the hairy muscle.
A little later, I got my profile "certified", whereupon I put my profile name on a pad, took off my shirt, dropped my jeans, Sagat-style, and mugged for the flash.