So last night was the first time I’ve gotten up in front of a bunch of people and said, “Hello, my name is Tony Comstock, and I’m a filmmaker.” Actually, it wasn’t. I did get up in front of a bunch of people, but some else introduced me. I’m not even sure I said “Hello” before launching into my thing. But I’m getting ahead of myself.

In case you’ve been living under a rock, last night was the debut installment of The New York Perverts’ Saloon at a venerably old performance space in Williamsburg called Galapagos.

The idea for a public reading was cooked up about two months ago when Viviane hosted a gathering of about 15 people who shared nothing in common, save the fact that they’re New Yorkers, and they keep sex blogs. I said “sure, why not” not thinking that anything would come of it. (Word to the wise, if Dacia says “You know, we ought to…” clear some space on your calender.)

The show was great. We had a wonderful Emcee in the person of Desiree Burch, and frankly by intermission I was a little worried. The first half of the show featured Dacia, Lex and Tess, plus a guest appearance by Jane, and was filled with tales of orgies, and threesomes and Jackson Pollack jism spectacles, and I wasn’t sure if my earnest, but possibly mopey sounding reflections the dearth of films that frankly address sex as joyous part of the human experience might not fit into the evening.

Not to worry. Cherry Bomb was first up after the intermission, delivering a caustic screed on the joys of spending half an hour helping someone choose lube and sex toys, only to be treated to a vague condescension from her at the cash register. Yes, it’s true. Sometimes it’s hard to get people to take you seriously if you make a living out of sexual pleasure. And sometimes that’s annoying. Sometimes it hurts. The stage was perfectly set for me to read from my essay More Grumpy Old Men.

I think it went well, but I couldn’t say for sure. Although I rather enjoy public speaking, I don’t do it often enough to feel at ease with it, so every time feels a bit like jumping off a high rock into water – exhilarating, but over before you really have a chance to think about what’s happening. There was some laughter (the right kind, I think) and afterward a couple of friends told me they got choked up, which is good, because I get choked up everytime I read it too.

After me came Chelsea Girl reading from her post “feral” and looking vaguely feral herself, then a loopy reading from Jefferson, and then the Plain-bellied Sneetch made the place get really quite giving a detailed description of the first time a woman ever gave him an anal orgasm. I could feel assholes puckering all around me, but not mine. I know just what he was talking about. Then Selena took us home with a back room, bisexual blowjob orgy.

So that was the first, but hopefully not last installment of The New York Perverts Saloon. I’d do it again in a minute, except I don’t know what I might read about. Peggy and I haven’t been to an orgy in years and I don’t think I want to be “that guy who rants about not having his sex films taken seriously”. (That’s what I have this blog for!) Maybe I have to start getting into creative masturbation. I just found out there’s a huge online community for Fleshlight modification enthusiasts!

This entry was posted on Tuesday, April 4th, 2006 at 12:36 pm and is filed under Blogging, Perverts Saloon, Press & Publicity. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.