BOOBS TO ME

The big shoot for Valerie Loves Me went off with nary a hitch (and at least one bitch) Friday and Saturday, despite some unforseen circumstances. With one exception (LK)., each and every extra we thought we'd secured did not show up on either day. So we improvised. The characters we thought would be hard to cast for the Black Man Group scene -- on the street, at the last minute, for $20 and a free t-shirt -- were not. And the employees at both shops where the owners had given us permission to shoot knew nothing about it. So in a way it was like India; we learned to expect the unexpected.

Thursday night I negotiated through people in a frenzy to complete their Halloween costumes (they were spending far more energy on that choice than the upcoming election) and tried my darndest to track down some falsies, since my character (the lead) is supposed to grab potential male investors' attention from the get-go.... and apparently that's one way to do it (I'm an ass man myself). The people in Store #1 with the Motion Lotion and catsuits were perplexed when I asked for falsies. "Huh?" It was like I was in Mysore again, as I had to find several different ways of saying it before they understood. "Fake boobs?" finally got 'em. "You know, someone just came in here asking for those! We only have nipples," said the Girl with the Thousand Piercings, who showed me some pink, stick-on pencil eraserlike nipples with big areolas like the ones Samantha bought on Sex and the City. "That's OK. I already have those."

The kids at the nearby place with the lingerie and vibrators seemed equally confuse-ed when I requested falsies. Apparently the term went out in the 1940's. Or I'm just OLD. When they finally understood what I wanted, the jaundiced Crispin Glover-looking kid with lank dreads and Bush/Cheney button lounging behind the counter went into a long, detailed explanation of implants (I think his twin takes tickets at the Music Box). His female cohort suggested I try Beatnix.

After dinner at Mia Francesca with the Hex, where I did not have dessert and limited myself to just two pieces of bread and even scraped off some of the butter (for Art's Sake, as the yoga shoot was the next day and I wanted the belly to be minimal), he accompanied me to Beatnix, which is in Boystown and not unlike Ricky's in the Chelsea just before Halloween. Only with fatter, dumber, not as stylishly dressed people. It was buzzing with pale, thin youngsters clenching bondage suits and vintage wedding dresses. And me, asking for falsies. "OH!" said Mr. Flamboyant in the purple striped stockings, who was overseeing the trannie lingerie room. "Do you want whole breasts?" No, I have some, I said, and pointed. I want to enhance them, and made the big bazooms gesture. OOHH!!!! YOU MEAN TITTIES!" He led me at a fast clip to "the wig room" where he screamed, "BRING THIS WOMAN SOME TITTIES!" A troll-like woman with a crew cut grabbed her own DD set, proffered them to my chin, and cackled, "You want some-a mine?" No, thanks. I was then shown two types; big fancy silicone stick-ons in a huge box ($20) and crappy foam ones (with nipples) in a baggie with a twist-tie for $10. I went for the latter and stood in line for HOURS to pay cash for them. When I finally got to the front, I pointed to the set behind the register and said, "Those falsies are for me" and that at least got a laugh (the guys taking the money were "older").

While we waited for Friday's shoot at the yoga studio to start, I showed the other women my new set, which turned my B- into a solid C. That led to an animated discussion of what happens to boobs after the children have have sucked the life out of them. Apparently some deflate, while others just sag. One woman was actually saving for an enhancement. Once again I was glad to be the exception.

And on Saturday, when I put 'em in for restaurant scene, the two male crew members and my co-star all treated me with even more attention/deference than usual. Even the Hex said something to the effect that "If only you'd had those when we were dating ---..." which reminded me again to thank Durga for all past breakups, including the most recent. Later that night I wore the entire Valierie outfit, including falsies, big makeup and big hair, grey roots covered, to Bindi's going away party -- where not a single soul noticed my new look.... But I did thwack the them with my middle fingers to show Bindi that if someone in India were to grope or Eve Tease the things, they'd be sorely disappointed (if they even noticed). Or at least I wouldn't notice. So I might keep 'em around for awhile.