GRABBYS WEEKEND: DAY 1
Posted by Jett Blakk at 5/21/2008 7:19 AM and is filed under uncategorized 
NICK CAPRA came by the night before since we were leaving so early on Thursday, but he was raring to go when it was time to leave. We drove to LAX and parked in one of the lots, then caught the shuttle to the terminals. I had already checked us in, but because Ms. Capra had so much damn luggage, we couldn't go straight to security. But glory to the powers that be, there was a special line just for people who were pre-checked in and had bags, and there was no one in line! A couple of minutes later, and we were in a long-ass line for security.
As we got closer to the scanners, we could hear a TSA agent, a fat, older chick with hair whose color you won't find on a Sherman-Williams paint chip chart, sitting behind an x-ray scanner barking at people: "Take your shoes off and put them in a bin!", "No fluids over 3.7 ounces! C'mon!" and "Lady, remove your jacket! You should know better!" We were unfortunately filed into her line, and Nick went first. Now, I always wear slip-on shoes when I fly, because I can take them off and put them back on quickly without having to find a chair, sit down and tie my laces. So I wasn't holding up the line at all. But this chick must have douched with Red Bull, because while I was waiting for the conveyor belt to take my satchel and carry it under the scanner, she snapped at me, "C'mon, c'mon, you're holding everyone up!"
Let me tell you something. I was raised by my parents to be docile. "If someone calls you a name, just forget about it. Words can't hurt you. If someone punches you, don't fight back. Just walk away. You'll be the bigger person for it." As a result, I went through junior high and high school constantly picked on by bullies. Even squirts 5'6" would pick on me, even though I have been 6'2" since I was 12. But they knew I wouldn't fight back, so I was an easy target. I was quiet and thin with glasses, nerdy and unco-ordinated with absolutely no interest or ability in sports, so for most of my formative years, I was called faggot and queer, to which I responded by simply keeping my mouth shut and walking away. This didn't help matters.
Then one day during my last semester of high school, I had just turned in a math test to my teacher's desk and was returning to my seat. Now, I was wearing a denim pullover shirt with a deep v-cut in front, and as I passed one particular bully, he chuckled and muttered, "I can see your tit, fag." I took two steps, then stopped. I don't know what happeened. I really don't. But suddenly, I didn't feel like turning the other cheek anymore. I turned and walked back to his desk, bent over and whispered in his ear: "It figures you'd be the one looking, dickhead. And if you or any of your friends call me 'faggot' again, I'll tell everyone in school that you've all sucked my dick." I left the bully sitting at his desk wide-eyed as the teacher warned me not to give my classmates any answers. Oh, I'd just given him an answer, all right. Since then, I've never let any bully get away with shit. My bag of bullshit was full. Don't get me wrong: I have a lot of patience and a good nature, but you really don't want to push Ms. Blakk to her limit. You really, really don't.
So when TSA agent Attilla the Cunt snarled at me, I snarled back. I took a step toward her and said, "Listen, I came here with a good attitude. How 'bout you do the same?" Her jaw dropped open and her painted-on brows raised, and then her jaws clamped shut and stayed shut, and from that moment until I got out of hearing range, they stayed shut. The handsome TSA man who waved me through the metal scanner had a big grin on his face, and I think he would have clapped if he could have done so without being reprimanded. CVK keeps telling me that someday I am going to be thrown to the ground, handcuffed and arrested.
Nick and I were talking to our gate, and he was going on about how hungry he was. Over the course of the next few days, Nick would astound me with his appetite. "I've got to find a McDonald's" he kept saying. Suddenly, from behind us, I heard the musical melody of Sammy Cahn's "Come Fly With Me." Turning around, we saw JASON SECHREST of JasonCurious.com behind us. "I knew I'd see somebody from the industry here," he said, "but I never dreamed it would be you two!" He joined us as Nick found a Burger King and wolfed down 3 breakfasts. I had stopped at a See's Candies and bought two boxes of small vanilla and chocolate hard candies. At the gate, Jason saw that the ticket agent was someone he knew who was also a porn fan, so he took Nick up to meet him. He was thrilled, but unfortunately, couldn't get us upgraded to 1st class.
I'm not a superstitious person by nature, but when I fly, I DO have two traditions that I feel I must do, or the plane will crash. When I board, I have to touch the outer hull of the aircraft, and secondly, as the plane leaves the ground, I have to be humming the main title theme to SUPERMAN. Do I ask for thanks from my fellow passengers for pre-emptively saving their lives? No. But I know they're thankful, anyway.
Anyway, the ride was long and dull, mostly because I had forgotten to charge my video iPod (which I was keeping a close grip on this trip) and the battery died 15 minutes into TARANTULA. So, I spent the next 3 hours and 15 minutes looking out the window, glancing at bits of THE BUCKET LIST on the monitors and watching Nick sleep. Now Nick Capra sleeps in an interesting way. He doesn't lean his head back against the seat, he sits upright and lowers his head until his chin is on his chest. Very birdlike.
There was some turbulence over Denver. Very rough. A woman shrieked at one point. Landing in Chicago, we made the tragic mistake of taking a taxi into the city during rush hour. As I said, I have a lot of patience, but Nick and Jason were like a couple of Mexican jumping beans in a clothes dryer. I literally though Sechrest was going to leap out of the cab at one point. An amusing moment came when Chi Chi called Jason's cell. "I'm in a cab with Nick Capra and Jett Blakk," he said. After a few minutes of conversation, I heard Chi Chi's voice say through the tiny speaker, "So are Nick and Jett talking or are they just sitting there listening to every word we say?"
"They're just sitting here," Jason answered.
"I'll call you later." Click.
We dropped Jason off at the Hard Rock Hotel, then he took us on to the HOTEL SAX. When I stayed there last year, it was still being renovated, but now it was beautiful. I decided to forego a suite this year and get a regular room (which would prove to also be a mistake...more on that, later). Nick and I checked in, and he was off to the hotel's gym to pump up, then take a nap before the Skin Trade party at Charlie's. Oh, the other reason he couldn't attend the Welcoming party? It was the season ending of Ugly Betty, and he didn't want to miss it! I unpacked and went for a solo dinner at the Star of Siam, one of the best Thai places in Chicago. Then it was off to the Grabbys Welcoming party thrown by HotHouse at Spin.
I'd forgotten that in Chicago you must show ID when you enter any gay bar, even if you look like Kharis. But being back in Spin was a welcome treat. Spin had been one of my favorite bars when I lived there. I cut a 3-hour long montage of horror movie clips for their Halloween party and when I left town to move to L.A., they threw me a farewell party. Once inside, it was meet n' greet time. I saw CHRISTIAN OWEN (who had co-ordinated the event), TREVOR KNIGHT, STEVEN SCARBOROUGH, and a plethora of HotHouse men. The French reporter from last year tagged me and told me how much he'd loved DARE, and I told him to check out UNSPEAKABLE. ZACKARY PIERCE showed up later in the evening, looking too adorable for words, and we had drinks and talked. My favorite paparazzi, T-BALL, snapped some pics of us.
Me and Zackary Pierce.
Francesco D'Macho and Zackary Pierce.
By 10pm, the place was deserted, so we called Nick to tell him we were heading over to Chi Chi's Skin Trade party at Charlie's. He said he'd meet us there. Zackary and I got in his car and found a new parking space without too much trouble. MARK NAGEL was inside the door, taking donations and hugged us hello, then we quickly made our way to the bar. Zackary was drinking cranberry and vodka while I was gulping down the amaretto and cokes. The celebrity parade soon began: CHI CHI LARUE, TORY MASON, BRAXTON BOND, WOLF HUDSON, BLAKE RILEY, WARREN from Maleflixxx, CORT DONOVAN, ERIK WEST, MR. PAM and many others. Nick showed up and was chatting around. Braxton Bond came up to me and said, "Thank you for talking me into coming. You're the only director who could get me here." Awww...sweet.
Around 11:30, Nick said, "It's time to heat this party up!" and he began to play with Zackary's crotch. Soon, his hard dick was out, and Nick was sucking on it. A small crowd gathered as Nick and Zackary took turns sucking each other, then they took a break and headed to the dance floor where Tory Mason was gyrating on a stripper pole. The bar had big screens where people could text messages and have them seen by everyone. While Tory was dancing, someone texted "Why is there a 15-year-old dancing in here?" lol.
Another dancer was late getting into the airport, so Wolf Hudson was called upon to fill in. This guy is an amazing dancer, as most of you know. I pulled out my cell phone and shot some admittedly crappy footage of him doing his thang. Turns out I couldn't embed it for some reason, so here's the link that will take you to its YouTube page:
And some pics as well
:
Mr. Pam fed Wolf's undies some bills, and I was counting my 20's when the song ended and he got down. Oh, well. Next time.
Wolf Hudson & Mr. Pam
About 1 am, Nick and I grabbed a cab and headed back to the hotel, although we stopped at a 7-11 so Nick could get some food. I was hungry myself, so I picked up a turkey sandwich and a big bottle of water, and we walked to the hotel from there. Back in my room, I turned the TV on for the first time that day and chowed down on the sandwich. It was 2 am, and I hit the sheets, worn out.
To be continued...
JBK
Comments