It’s always odd to come across a story about yourself when you aren’t expecting it, and even odder when you had completely forgotten the incident.
In Amanda Lepore‘s new memoir Doll Parts, she does a fabulous job of describing the club kid scene of the late ’80s and early ’90s. There was a club we both worked at, The Building, which was in an abandoned Electric Company – very raw, very urban, and verrrrrry dangerous. Rusted corners and cinderblock go-go platforms, definitely not an ideal place for drunken club kids in platforms or stilettos. One night, as Amanda tells it, she slipped and fell down a staircase, hitting her head. Hard. She was bleeding and on the ground. Needing help.
That’s when apparently I walked by.
“Hey, Amanda, great look!” I said.
And kept walking.
Didn’t stop. Didn’t help.
Thankful Richie Rich showed up and recognized she was really hurt and got her to a hospital.
I had COMPLETELY forgotten this story. (That whole era is a little foggy.)
But, oh my god, Amanda, let me apologize now. Publicly. I AM SO SORRY.
I was a silly, narcissistic BRAT who couldn’t see past his (sniffling) nose. I was literally THE WORST back then. But if I thought for a minute that you were hurt, of COURSE, I would have helped. In my defense, this WAS the era of the “Blood Feast” and Michael and I were doing a lot of blood-covered looks. I must have thought you were doing a “wounded chic” thing.
Again, omg, what a horrible person I was. But at least, in hindsight, you got a funny story for Doll Parts out of it.
I love you! And if you ever fall down again, I will drop what I’m doing and come and pick you up. I will get on a plane and fly to where you are to take care of you.
Amanda Lepore’s Doll Parts comes out Tuesday, April 18. Get your copy here.