Rocky Horror Memories...

It done be Hallowe'en, y'all!

I'm dressed up as an administrative assistant (pretty clever, eh?) and have no plans to speak of for this fine holiday. Doug wants to watch "Rocky Horror Picture Show", but I just don't think it's the same at home.

Really.

The last time I saw "Rocky Horror Picture Show", I was married to Ed H. and we went to see it at a place in Des Moines called Billy Joe's Pitcher Show. It was a combination bar/restaurant/moviehouse, and everything was kind of chintzy. Great...just the place to see "Rocky Horror", no?

However, there was a freak snowstorm that weekend, so I was more concerned about how we were going to get back to Ed's mom's house than the flick. Plus, the people acting it out sucked. One guy couldn't figure out how to get his Frank N. Furter costume on.

Now I had seen Rocky Horror several times in college, and back then I thought it was just the most fun imaginable. Woo-hoo!

It was definitely an event - it was held at the (now converted into a bank) Astro Theater, which was a single screen theater that was HUGE!!!!! The first couple of times I went to see it, I didn't dress up to speak of. I wasn't sure what would happen to me, and didn't want to mess up a costume. You had to buy tickets ahead of time or you were probably S.O.L.

However, in my sophomore year I acquired a truly hideous royal-blue tuxedo jacket with wide lapels and decided to be a zombie pimp. I used that jacket for Halloween through the rest of my college days (when I was a dead Hawaiian pimp and a dead punk pimp) , until I retired it for good in 1991.

So yeah, I dressed up, I put on the "dead looking" makeup, and had a gay old time.

Well, I take that back. One year was not so great.

It was sophomore year. I was dating a rather uptight guy (yeah, imagine that...) and it was our "first Hallowe'en" together. For simplicity's sake, let's call him "EW".

So...EW was pulling the passive-aggressive tricks he was SO good at - he would change his mind about going, then change it back. I don't get why, either...it's not like I made him dress up. I dressed up myself, but I didn't consider it a requirement.

Anyway, it was the night of the show, and EW and I headed downtown to partake of the festivities. We met a few other folks at this pizza joint, had a couple of pics taken, and made our way to the theater.

I thought to myself, "Cool! He's loosening up! Thank GOD!"

However, my dream started to crumble before my very eyes.

First, I ran into a fellow UI student who was gay (a fact that never bothered me) and was dressed up in a beautiful flowered housedress and Converse basketball shoes. The boyfriend was less than impressed - MUCH less. So I hustled the beau from that unpleasant scene and got him in the movie theater. We purchased our "kits"...they wouldn't let you bring in your own props, hence the "kit".

The vast majority of people were dressed crazily - it was Halloween and "the show", after all. Lots of leather, lots of bizarro makeup, lots of tattered lingerie...pretty standard dress code for this occasion. In retrospect, maybe I should have prepared EW for this, but HE was the honors student. Couldn't he have looked it up or something?

The theater was CROWDED. I don't remember where else the "Show" was playing, but it seemed like wherever it was, it wasn't close to the eastern side of the state. Ergo, it was quite packed. Like sardines. Like tennis balls. Get it?

I saw some people that I hadn't seen since the last "show", including one guy that catapulted himself over the row of seats in front of me and said, "You don't remember me, but we screamed at each other last year." Then, he proceeded to scream "EAT S**T!" I remembered who he was, and screamed my response: "F*** YOU!" EW just kind of stood there, watching this like one might watch animals mating on the Discovery Channel - a mixture of fascination and repulsion.

The lights go down after the people stomp their feet and scream for several minutes, which results in...more screaming. (Logical, no?)

The movie starts - everyone screams.

Dialogue was spoken and repeated by the audience; all of us know the sacred words to insert at the proper times. (such as a****** and slut).

Songs are sung by the cast and the audience.

Then...wait for it...

THE TIME WARP.

Oh yeah. EW was not into dancing, so I went up. He said to go ahead, so I went ahead.

But when Frank N. Furter came out...he muttered, "That's enough," and left the theater, leaving me behind.

My friends looked at me with that "What's HIS problem?" look. I shrugged my shoulders in reply, then went off after him.

We argued. He said that I didn't prepare him properly for how weird the Show could get. I replied that I did.

Back and forth. Forth and back.

I said that if he wanted to break up with me he should have just said so. He said that wasn't what he was talking about.

We made up, but I couldn't get "tight ass" out of my head when thinking of him.

Many years later, I reminded him of that night.

"Did I REALLY do that?" he asked.

"Yup."

"I just left you there?"

"Yup."

"Did we argue about it?"

"Well, DUH! It's us, remember?"

Then he sighed. I'm not sure why.

Maybe he liked Tim Curry and Meat Loaf more than he thought?