A few days after my sixteenth birthday, I lost my Rocky Horror virginity with my best friend, in a shitty little duplex theater in Van Nuys.
I’d wanted to see Rocky since I was ten or eleven on my way to an audition and my mom drove us past a marquee advertising a midnight showing every Saturday. My parents couldn’t or wouldn’t tell me what it was about (my memory is hazy on that specific detail) but anything that happened at midnight on a Saturday sounded great to me. The creepy lettering and word “horror” in the title only increased my antici . . . pation.
Darin and I were at a place on Van Nuys Boulevard called Cafe 50s. These fifties cafes were everywhere in the eighties (some blame Stand By Me and Back to the Future for their popularity) but this particular one was my favorite. Though I’ve never actually been in a diner in the fifties, this one felt the most authentic, which means it copied what I’d seen in movies better than anything else, and had Del Shannon’s Runaway on the jukebox.
We gorged ourselves on patty melts and chocolate shakes and vanilla Cokes while we talked about all the things that seemed important after you discovered girls, like how to actually, you know, talk to one and convince her to take an unforgettable trip with you to second base for sixteen seconds of passion. We argued about the time travel paradoxes in Back to the Future, confirmed that quoting Monty Python to the 24 year-old waitress is not the best way to get a stand up double when you’re sixteen (or ever) and admitted that Michael Keaton was a vastly superior Batman than we’d been prepared to give him credit for. In other words, it was a Saturday night like any other, and as midnight (and the restaurant’s closing) drew near, our attention turned toward that most important of teenage activities: doing anything but going home.
“Have you ever seen Rocky?” Darin asked.
“God, I hate that stupid movie,” I said. “And the sequels are even worse. It’s like, we know he’s going to win, so why waste our time wi –“
“I mean Rocky Horror.” He said.
“Oh.” I said. “No, but I’ve always wanted to.”
“It’s playing across the street at midnight. We should go.”
As quickly as I’d gotten excited to see it, I lost my nerve. Through the pre-internet grapevine that gave teens of my generation the truth about Mikey from Life cereal (“Ohmygod he died by eating pop rocks and drinking coke”) I’d heard about Rocky virgins being deflowered in horrifying ways (“Ohmygod this guy I know went to see it in Santa Monica and they made him take off his clothes and wrote VIRGIN on his chest in lipstick!”)
“Don’t they do horrible things to people who haven’t seen it?” I said in my most nonchalant voice, grateful that it didn’t crack.
“Not really,” he said, “but if you’re worried about it, we won’t say anything.”
“Okay,” I said, my excitement returning.
The waitress came back by our table. “Can I get you guys anything else?”
Before I could demand a shrubbery, Darin said, “Could we get some slightly burnt white toast?”
The waitress and I gave him the same curious look. He smiled enigmatically.
Twenty minutes later, we bought our tickets, burnt toast in my pocket, butterflies rising in my stomach. We stood in a line that grew to about two dozen people and waited for the theater to open. I made nervous smalltalk with Darin, talking a little too loudly about the great cast they had in . . . I think I chose Huntington Beach.
The doors opened a few minutes before midnight, and we walked into a theater that, Tardis-like, seemed bigger on the inside than it appeared on the outsider: dirty blue and orange curtains hung on the walls. Two aisles separated three groups of squeaky blue seats. The floor was painted a dark navy blue — blue seemed to be a recurring theme in this particular theater — and was appropriately sticky. We chose seats on the aisle near the back. I should have been freaked out when a guy sat down a few aisles in front of us and lit a cigarette, but being rebel-adjacent excited me.
The theater quickly got as full as it was going to get. It seemed that most of the audience knew each other, especially the four people who huddled together at the front of the house, next to the screen.
A dude with long black hair and bright red lipstick emerged from the group, and spoke to the audience. I can’t remember what he said, because when he began, a hand tapped me on the shoulder. I looked up and saw the most phenomenally beautiful girl in the world standing in the aisle. She had short black hair in a Bettie Page cut, bright green eyes, full red lips. She wore a red corset that fit her . . . perfectly.
She bent over and said, “are you a virgin?”
I was, in every way that mattered, and in that moment I would have pushed my mother in front of a train on its way into a lake of fire if it meant that this girl would remove from me this . . . condition.
If I’d been standing, I’m certain I would have fainted. “W-what?” I stammered.
She extended one hand and caressed my face. She repeated herself, even more seductively than the first time.
My voice cracked as I said “YES!” a little too loudly.
Her eyes flashed and she squeaked – squeaked! – a little. “This is going to be fun.”
She stood up abruptly and hollered, “I have a virgin!”
“A VIRGIN!” Replied much of the audience.
Before I knew what was happening, she stood me up, had me repeat some oath that I’ve sinceforgotten, and spanked me. I remained fully clothed, but by the time I was done, I was soaked through after everyone in the theater sprayed me with their squirt guns and spray bottles. As quickly as it started, it was over, and she disappeared before I could get her number.
My deflowering was, like most people’s, nothing like I’d hoped for or expected, but it was still magical. I loved every second of it.
While other regulars repeated similar rituals with a few other virgins in the audience I looked at Darin. He looked back, mirroring my disbelief.
“That was awesome!” I said. Not only had a girl practically showed me her boobs, she’d touched my face! Seductively! And talked to me! And squirted me with a squirt gun! I was beside myself, and the movie hadn’t even started yet.
The lights went down, and the show began. I didn’t know any of the lines, but I quickly figured out what to yell at Brad and Janet. I threw my toast. I did the Time Warp. I watched the girl who’d taken my Rocky virginity play Magenta, which is probably why Magenta is still my favorite character in the whole show to this very day, twenty years later.
When it was over, we drove back to La Crescenta in my slightly-better-than-Patrick-Stewart’s Honda Prelude, blasting New Order the whole way with the sunroof open and the windows down. I dropped Darin off at his house, and though I got back to mine around 3, I didn’t fall asleep until the sun came up, I was so loaded with caffeine, sugar, adrenaline.
The movie, of course, was campy and not especially good, but that wasn’t the point. It was a shared experience, a place for misfits of all stripes to gather once a week, and fly our Transylvanian freak flags. For the next two years, Darin and I lead an ever-growing group of our friends to Rocky at least once a month, usually more, at the Rialto theater in South Pasadena. I haven’t been since 1991 or 1992, but those years — and the film itself — hold a very special place in my memory.
This is why we must do whatever it takes to stop MTV from making their High School Musicalized remake of The Rocky Horror Picture Show, adding new songs — new fucking songs! — because just remaking it isn’t offensive enough.
Online petitions are pointless and don’t do anything, but we can still visit Stop the Remake dot Com to feel like we’re doing something to stop this travesty from occurring.
Don’t dream it, be it.
(Snap o’ the garter to Cherie Priest, who posted the petition link a couple of days ago)
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Wow… a blog that got me both nostalgic *and* angry. Already signed the petition and friended them on MySpace.
As for my first time? It was with my dad. Yep, MY DAD. But we went incognito… http://littlenicola.tripod.com/rhpsfull.jpg
@zizbI’m with ya. Where do I pick up my torch and pichfork?
MTV has gone from the ground breakingly awesome, rebelliously rocking entity it was in our youths to nothing but a money making joke that exploits sex and mundane music talent for the all mighty dollar. They’ve went from a mainly music video format to a mainly music oriented reality show/talk show/news shows/etc show format to increase their sponsorship, leaving how much room for the heart of the channel – it’s music?
When I was a teenager I could flip to MTV on a Saturday and sit back, enjoying a full days worth of music videos with the occasional news break. Not anymore. Now MTV needs to remake classics into mushy, bubble gum teenage flicks and ruin the meat of the film – what made generations become fanatics to begin with – and turn it into some diluted Disney version of Rocky Horror? HELL NO!
Grab those torches, people. Let’s stand tall.
Teen-age tribal identification of like-minded potential friends and just plain as-is acceptance was such a gift to my three children when they discovered Rocky in Dublin, CA in the late 70s.
To find others who laughed in all the right places, to push the envelope in so many similar ways sent them into singing and squealing peaks of self-esteem. I can not praise it enough for helping them find a place to belong during what would have been rough times among the jocks and otherwise bullies of their school experiences. As they grew and travelled all over the US, they always found a community at Rocky.
{and yes, they even got a status boost when they dragged me to see it — having a cool Mom counted back then}
I remember going to see Rocky Horror with a RH virgin. He just didn’t get it. He was genuinely annoyed at all the activity going on around him, distracting him from watching the movie. We tried to explain that the activities were much more entertaining than the movie itself, but he left the theater quite perplexed by what he had just witnessed.
I lost my Rocky Horror virginity at thirteen, which I’m quite sure is too young.
Also, unrelated, I’m assuming you’ve already seen this via Metafilter. Those lips! That hair!
This makes me sad. Some things shouldn’t be messed with.
But it figures. MTV is only a shell of what it once was. I’m not surprised in the least they’d be willing to sell out on one of the most iconic ‘teen’ experiences in history just to make a quick buck.
I hope that story is going in your next book.
Why does MTV have to do that? I can’t imagine it being a hit, a ratings winner or a money maker. It’s just a bad idea.
Good god man, if there was ever a time to loudly proclaim “I’m Wil Wheaton and i’m a movie/tv star” it was when Chesty McBoob was within earshot. Speaking of which, did anyone recognize you?
I also saw it for the first time when I was 16. At some crappy theater in Chicago. I didn’t like it, I didn’t get it, and we left mid way through. A year later we went again. This time to another theater in the suburbs of Chicago, with another cast. I was spellbound. Finally! This was the amazing experience everyone talked about! I became a regular, and then a cast member for almost ten years. It’s been a while since I’ve gone, but this post makes me want to round up my friends and go again and see if we can recapture those feelings we had back in the day.
Michael Doss – I agree that a remake might spark an interest in people who wouldn’t go to Rocky otherwise. But those kids aren’t going to like the theater experience anymore than they would without an MTV remake. And what will the remake be? Cheezy in the wrong way, too colorful in the wrong way. Too pretty, too glossy. Too perfectly executed. Rocky is a terrible B movie. It has mistakes riddled throughout, the actors aren’t picture perfect, the choreography isn’t spot on. The special effects are silly and so are the sets. The movie is a misfit just like all it’s loyal followers. This remake will be god-awful in the opposite way the original is.
I’m going to watch the MTV version. And I’ll probably hate it. But I’ll always consider myself a “Rocky person” which means I have to watch anything has has anything to do with Rocky. Blurgh!
Wow. That takes me back.
I may have Rocky scars that flare up and make me groan every time I hear the Time Warp, but it seems to me like re-making the movie kinda misses the point of the phenomenon. It looks like one of the earlier commenters, exit, will already be passing this along to the current Rialto cast, but as a former performer, thanks for the mention. The early 90’s were good days for us.
Rialto Janet – 1989-1990
Rialto Columbia – 1990-1993
Rialto fan – always
Well, Joan Jett thinks people should keep an open mind…
My first showing of Rocky was in Utah…midnight showing…no toast allowed. No deflowering. Horrible. And sedate. It was wrong.
My second time was in San Diego. I walked to the show with my friend wearing a black overcoat over a bra and panties, condoms pinned into my hair. It was a long way from Utah.
Speaking of idiotic remakes, did you know they are remaking “The Breakfast Club”? (Five people are stranded at an airport in this one.) What is WRONG with people?
Experience teaches that the young lady performing Magenta is ALWAYS a heartbreaker.
I too think it is an abominable idea to remake Rocky Horror, for every conceivable reason one could possibly argue. However I am tempted to point out that by “including songs that weren’t featured in the original,” they *may* actually just mean the songs that are in the stage version but got cut from the movie (“Once in a While” and “Superheroes”). Regardless, it’s a terrible idea. But those songs are good.
Alright, that’s it, for your next birthday we’re going to Rocky Cola and the Saturday night Rocky Horror at the Rialto! (Is it still open? The last movie I saw there was Goonies about 5 years ago!)
Wil, I am glad you are in seeing a doctor. Good luck on the prognosis and I hope you have a speedy recovery.
The first time I saw Rocky Horror I was 16 or 17, and when I got home at 2:30 or so in the morning, I got my first and only lecture about breaking my never-before-mentioned “curfew” from my parents. Other than that, it was similar to your experience (total delight, anarchy, hilarity; a huge, baseball-bat-sized rubber penis was used as an occasional prop) though I wasn’t de-virginized formally. I think they were nicer to shy nerdy girls, at least in Bound Brook, NJ.
I loved this post. However, I have to disagree with your conclusion about the remake.
The whole point of the story, and of my Rocky Horror past, is how much fun it is to participate! Even if you suck at it and you look like hell in your Frank N Furter costume.
So what, I ask you, is more participatory than making the movie again? Just cuz MTV is involved doesn’t mean you shouldn’t let them play.
… And after all, it’s not like a remake causes all the copies of the original to vanish with a poof. If it’s good, all to the better. If it’s not, you still have the classic version!
I still don’t know what 2nd base is.
I’ve been performing as Frankie at the Rialto Theater since 1980.. (stop doing the math right now!!!). Yea i remember AGES ago throwing rice at ya Wil!
As you may have heard, Landmark theaters shut down the Rialto. But, we (as a cast) have been renting the space and with 20th Century/Criterion’s license throwing shows on and off again.
Our current cast leader, Devo, is moving to Germany and i will be taking the reigns again. Keep me informed, and i will start doing what i can by spreading the word and making calls, adding links to our cast web sight (aDarkRefrain.com), myspace ([email protected]), etc.
Awsome work you’ve been doing, Wil. I’m a gamer too and like your activism on that front too. KIT
Ladycrim was actually the one that got me into Rocky Horror a lot more than I already was. We met as freshman in college and I learned a ton about RH from her. I’ve played Columbia in the past and been asked to play Magenta. There used to be a cast in my area that performed at a theater down the street from the bookstore we all worked at. There’s nothing like going and seeing your co-workers wearing next to nothing on stage. The first time I went, some of them tried to do the virgin orientation on me since I hadn’t been to one of “their” shows before. They finally got me on stage when a group of us went to see a cast in the Valley several of the cast were friends with since it was my actual birthday.
Ok, I’ve never commented here but when you mentioned Cafe 50’s, I had to. As a kid, we’re about the same age, my mom used to always take me there and then to the trendy kids store “A La Popcorn” on Ventura Blvd. I loved Cafe 50’s.
Strangely enough, I went to Jewish summer camp with someone you were good friends with in the 80’s. I sure wish I knew who it was now. I remember it was a girl and I think you might have JUST started your Star Trek stint.
Small world.
I was reading that, enjoying my own trip down memory lane to that building that’s white and sells hamburgers, until I go to the last paragraph and quite literally arrrghhhhh! As if I had died while writing it. That is a truly horrible idea and everyone at MTV should have horrible things done to them with forks for even thinking of it.
The Columbus Ohio Rocky Horror shows are… different.
It could be that they serve good beer.
It could be that the ladies are really pretty.
It could be that they do special shows at different points of the year.
At least your virgin experience was a good one.
Mine… yeah not so much.
But I still love it.
You’ve taken me back, Wil, to memories of my first few Rocky Horror experiences. The most embarrassing, however, had nothing to do with actully going to the show. Years ago a friend of mine was in a production of Pirates of Penzance in Toronto, and Barry Bostwick (Brad) was in it, so my friend offered to introduce me to him, telling Bostwick that I was “a huge Rocky Horror fan” – which I was, but at that point I hadn’t seen it that often. Bostwick said, “Oh, then how many times have you seen it”. Stupidly, I told him the truth, “Um….nine…” (blushing deeply). His look of disgust at my puny viewing numbers withered me. I still love the movie, of course, and have it at home, but every time I think of that incident, I can’t believe I didn’t just fudge the numbers a bit! (P.S. I used to dress as Magenta…I was younger and thinner then!)
Okay, this is my new favorite Wil story. God that brought back memories! My friend actually betrayed me as a virgin my first time, and I had to imitate the sounds that a horse makes while gettin’ off. It was awful and awesome at the same time.
Well written, Wil. And I loved the Patrick Stewart reference. Totally random, which is why it was so great.
Just remember: “Magenta” is probably in her late 40s right now, 30 pounds heavier, has two kids, and just read this post and thought to herself, “Woah…that was Wesley Crusher?!?!?”
Time smooths out all the peaks & valleys, huh?
Wil, you must see it live. Totally adds a new dimension to the show way beyond what people in costume dancing in front of the movie could ever achieve. I played the part of Rocky in a community theatre production (chicocabaret.com) and it was an amazing experience.
Riff Raff weighs in.
loved the movie-interestingly one of the live theatre versions put on in New Zealand (where I am from) , had our previous Prime Minister Rob Muldoon, playing the Narrator role!(not the most camp of roles in it but still..) . I guess sometimes with small countries anything goes..can you image Bush in this show!? Then again Reagan was an actor…..
I realize this post has little to do with this, but I wanted to share anyway. Cafe 50s is still on Van Nuys. My friends and I have recently discovered it, and we love it.
As for remakes, I pretty much protest them. Nothing is ever as good as the original.
My first time at Rocky I was eleven. Some much-cooler-than-me high school kids brought me along as their token V. The old Vogue Theatre in Louisville was a beautifully decrepit thing, mired halfway between Golden Age splendor and a tacky sixties remodel. But RHPS was an experience; I came from a very sheltered background; I had never even imagined anything like it before. Now, of course, it seems rather tame, but at the time, it was like Sodom and Gomorrah on screen. I was wide-eyed with shock. But I was also swept up in the whole communal film experience, and loved it enough to go back 2 or 3 times a year until the Vogue was demolished in my adulthood.
I miss Rocky. Why must Hollyweird keep pissing on my childhood memories?
My dad took me to RHPS when I was 12. I then went every weekend for 2 years (all at the NuArt on Santa Monica Blvd.). On my 16th birthday I played Trixie – my birthday was on a Sunday that year so playing Trixie was actually the very first thing I did for my ‘Sweet Sixteen.’
Ah, the innocence of childhood . . .
Signed and sent to all my buds. An outrage!!!
I adore your blogs. You always put it so much more eloquently than I could think to.
I wish you could block TV channels for social irrelevance.