Celebrity Skin

After dropping the kids at school, I passed a cameraman trying to interview passers-by for “Regis and Kelly.” Apparently they wanted New Yorkers to talk about how cold it is.

It’s too cold for that. I hurried past, huddled in my coat and hat.

Yesterday, the kids and I passed Howard Stern on the street.

Celebrity spotting is a favorite pastime in this city. They are all over the place.

Kind of makes you wonder: would it be possible for me to cultivate a famous lover?

My ex Lucy is ahead of me on this. Among her new beaus is an up-and-coming singer-songwriter familiar to those who listen to college radio. One of our last dates was a concert of his. They apparently hooked up at his next show in town.

May sometimes gets together with another performer who is really famous. You would think he might be gay, as he’s handsome and stylish, but in fact, he’s had very few encounters with men. He actually has very little sex—while he is a heartthrob, he’s also something of a hermit.

He liked calling May to have her describe sex with me. We made some videos to show him how we went at it.

There was much talk of a threesome. When Marcus caught wind of this, he wanted in. He’s a big fan, so he felt he was more deserving of this threesome. Fine, I said. If the opportunity comes along, take the first plunge.

One night, he and May got together with the pop star. It was a bit of a disaster. Afterward, they drove three hours to New York to fuck me and get it out of their system.

If I were to have a celebrity lover, who would it be?

For now, I can only cling to a lost opportunity.

I gave a talk at a symposium a few years ago. Next up on stage was Rufus Wainwright.

At a reception afterwards, he came up to tell me how much he enjoyed my talk. I told him I was a fan of his. We fell into a fine conversation.

Soon we had someone at our elbows—a former Prime Minister of Canada. She’s a big Gershwin fan, and the three of us were soon on that topic.

Two young women came up, pulling at Rufus to come on, let’s go, let’s go!

“Nice talking with you,” he said, looking in my eyes. “I’m off to get high.”

I was left to chat with the Prime Minister. I couldn’t just ditch her to get stoned with Rufus Wainwright.

Anyway, I was married then. Last thing I needed was a cute famous boyfriend.

I recently read an interview in which Rufus revealed that he hates doing dishes but loves to do laundry. You know what? I am exactly the opposite.

Perhaps we are fated for one another?