i don't go out on Saturday nights. I joke that it's "amateur night" but mostly I don't care for the crowds of drunk people roaming the streets, looking for more entertainment, more alcohol, more drugs. But waiting outside for a performance to start, something I wanted to see mostly to force myself to "get out there" I realized it also has a lot to do with how I'd pretty much gotten used to being part of a couple - up until 2-1/2 years ago, I pretty much had a boyfriend ( 3 different "main" ones) for the previous 16 years I've lived here. So, of course, Saturdays were mostly taken. Sundays were the night to go out, often by myself. Anyway, stuffing this slice of pizza down my piehole (gosh, is that really a term people use?), knowing that it's usually a whole pizza, by myself on a Saturday night, I still wasn't comfortable being out. Ugh, I just feel too self-concious by myself on Saturday nights. But I figured I could get away with going to see a silly performance, and have some laughs while slouching in a dark corner.
The venue was small, cozy, and I guess I had like 1/2 a minute to find a seat, according to the guy at the door. The show started pretty quickly, a one-man thing, and I tried to get a groove in the plastic chair for my ass to get comfortable in. I know I should be writing about the show, how good it was, or some "critque" - but I first noticed hairy forearms. Beautiful hairy forearms. And his face was even cuter than the pics I had seen on the webpage, so I had to struggle a bit not to just zone out and smile to myself while stairing at this cute, expressive face up there (and the eyebrows! when he'd scrunch up his face, they'd go all slanty and lickable....). But it started pretty relaxed, some silly "hey you doing out there - woo-hoos" and shit. And then the storytelling. I expected silly filthy stuff, and I got silly filthy stuff (yeah the buttmunching, tongue-flicking thing, plus a bunch more); I even found myself stifling my laugh, as I can get kinda loud, and in a small room, well, I just don't like to get noticed. So, he's describing this lockerroomsex scene, very very funny, and his facial expressions and body language are both hysterical, and yet rather adorable. I'm pulled in, kinda relating to the silliness of having to perform (the sexscene) while your mind is thinking about all this other stuff, so I'm nodding, and laughing in recognition, and then....... I dunno, it shifted suddenly, and quietly, and quite unexpectantly.
You ever watch a movie, and it's one of those intense close-ups at a difficult moment, so you only look like halfway at the screen? You are completely pulled in, but you feel this need to give the person some privacy, so you can't stop watching, but you can't watch head-on? And it wasn't anything earth-shattering, mind you, it just felt very personal, and he his voice was quiet, and slow, and measured, just enough for you to feel it, and recognize it in yourself, and have your heart slow down, and race, simultaneously. The experience of an unexpected "hot sex scene" where you try to go with it, and then you try to make it intimate, and you are being intimate, and yet the other guy, well, isn't?
Well, that's probably very vague, but I guess what makes something "art" is that it gets at you, regardless of your ability to explain how it got to you. I'm sure it could use some tightening up, and someone could figure out a better way for this part or that part to go here or there; maybe it was just the intimacy of the venue, or my frame of mind, wanting the laughs, surprised and moved by the "more"; maybe just my mind wondering through all my own shit while viewing hairy forearms, cute mouth, someone very comfortable with his body; maybe it was just a good show.