I'm posted up on the hallway walls outside of the convention entrance, feeling a little creeperish. Still somewhat trashed from the previous nights hijinks, questioning in my own head the logic behind my current motives. That of working up the courage to talk to the shiniest bronzed skinned, natural fro wearing, cleavage packing female I have ever laid eyes upon. If only I had bumped into her fifteen-hours earlier in a poorly lit nightclub as opposed to this brightly lit hotel lobby.
Normally I would take a quick glance and go on about my business, but this broad was obviously in this hallway with a specific purpose. Considering the type of crowd to show up at this event it was highly unlikely that she was there to get her poster for House Of 1000 Corpses signed by Sid Haig. Na, she was anxiously waiting for Pam Grier. Who, judging by her appearance must have been a influence over her.
I took a deep breath, told my brain to shut-up and took a giant step forward towards the target in my crosshairs.
"John, you ready or what?" a voice shouted from the distance.
My focus was disrupted and the kind of woman I had waited twenty seven and a half years to baby-mama was gone, out of sight and probably out of my life forever.
Opportunity blown.
"Come on we're having dinner with Dyanne Thorne at Gene's Seafood", explained Ed Tucker.
"Dyanne Thorne huh", not a bad backup plan for the evening I thought to myself.
Allow me for the briefest of seconds to be sparingly honest. I've never been a huge fan of the Ilsa films. Not because they are bad or not something I'd be interested in viewing. On the contrary, Ilsa is right up my alley. The problem is that I have been putting off viewing them for some time in the not to distant future so that I have atleast some type of cinematic treats on reserve for a rainy day.
With that said, I have been a huge fan of the films trailers for years. I even recall an experience at Unique Videos "Cult-O-Ween" when a discussion amongst fans came to a screaching halt as a trailer for Ilsa: Harem of the Oil Shieks came on the TV.
Bronzed over beauties are a dime a dozen, but dinner with a legend such as Dyanne Thorne was an experience to rare to pass up.
As I entered the restaurant joined by the likes of Ed Tucker, Brandon Merkely and Jon Haughton, my partners in crime for the weekend. I realized we were also accompanied by a few of Ed's personal friends.
At first I viewed this as a possible threat to my personal satisfaction, boy was I wrong. Amongst this crew was a conservative looking family of fourish, the mother I'm assuming a virgin to such cinematic spectacles as the Ilsa films.
Jon Haughton along with Dyanne Thornes wonderfully pleasent husband Howard Maurer strolled to the table, wearing none other then a bright red t-shirt with a giant Ilsa on the front decked out in full Nazi garb.
I loved it, the mother of the family, an obvious Sarah Palin fan leaned cautiously into her husbands ear, her eyes a glaze. Distraught and in a panic she whispered, "Oh my, I think we may be in danger".
On any other that night that would have been enough to suffice my appetite for moments of the unique variety. Not on this night, one of the most special of any I have ever lived through was nothing more then the bite of a delicious appetizer.
As our gang settled in, myself along with Ed, Jon and Brandon were basically tucked into a corner of the table with Dyanne and Howard to ourselves. Both of whom were filled with all sorts of amazing tales of filmmaking and life in general.
**** The Previous Evening ****
My first night in Jacksonville, sprayed down with Roca Wear cologne, dressed to impress and packing a bottle of Hennessy Black, I strolled through the hotel hall on my way to share a drink and conversation with good friends and a cult film legend.
On my journey through the halls I encountered a petite little number decked out in firm fitting black leather.
"Ilsa, what's up" I shouted.
The woman turned to face me, "That's not my name!", Ms. Thorne proclaimed in a sassy fit.
I caught up to her, we exchanged pleasentries and introductions as I escorted her down the hall to an elevator and to a gig performing a wedding ceremony for a pair of die-hard fans.
On the way we discussed a few topics, but mainly her and her husband Howard Maurers careers performing wedding ceremonies in Vegas.
As we parted ways I promised that when the time comes for me to tie the knot, there was no other option I would settle for other then to be married by Ilsa.
She turned to face me with the warmest smile and said, "John, when that time comes she will be a very lucky woman".
**** Next Night @ Gene's Seafood ****
Overwhelmed by the quality of conversation being held at this dinner table, surrounded by fan boys with an encyclopedic knowledge of cinematic history, I couldn't help but shift my focus to the chemistry of Mr and Mrs Maurer.
Never in my life have I ever witnessed two people so obviously in love. These two cuddled and swooned at one another like a couple of pubescent kitty cats in love.
Besides meeting with legends and having an awesome weekend of fandom, I also had alterior motives of going wild in a strange city, getting fucked up and wrecklessly poon banging as many whores as I could get my hands on. I didn't want to just write a blog, I wanted to tell my fucking tales to the annoyed doctors at the damn health department Monday morning! My dick was like a kamikazi pilot with a death wish, it was all or nothing this weekend.
With that said, it's no secret that at this point in my life I have all but given up hope on true love. It's a myth, an urban legend but as I sit at this table staring at The Maurers I might as well have been slapped in the face by the Lochness Monsters tail or bitten on the throat by the Chupacabra!
My brain, temporarily rattled was jolted back to life by a question I feel honored to have been apart of answering.
"This may sound kind of stupid to you guys, but what is a grindhouse?" asked Mrs. Maurer.
Me and Brandonly Merkely turned to face each other in astonishment. Then the four of us eagerly talked over each other trying to answer her question, each with a different answer.
Here I was telling a legend of 42nd St, one of several female representatives of the grindhouse genre what she was apart of. Fucking amazing!
As we arrived back to the hotel our group became somewhat scattered for a brief moment and I somehow wound up alone strolling with Howard Maurer. I told him about my crazy experiences in Jacksonville and he shared a few experiences back. We had a few laughs and suddenly Mr. Maurer put his hand on my back and turned me towards his wife who was walking with the rest of the group.
In one of those rare, life changing moments Mr. Maurer told me something to the effect of, "You know, I been married for "x" amount of years to the most beautiful woman on the face of the earth, I could never do anything to ruin that." As an example of why he had given up partying.
I've heard this type of talk before but there was something very genuine and real in Mr. Maurers tone. When I looked at him I could see that in his heart of hearts this was a man who could not live without this woman next to him everyday for the rest of his life. His world obviously meant nothing without her and I believe that she felt that way about him in return.
We all met upstairs and settled into some couches to enjoy one anothers company a little while longer. A great deal of conversation was had and friendships were ceiled.
