Manchmal schreit ein Abend beinahe nach alten Filmen, ein Abend wie dieser nach einem Film wie "The Torch Song Trilogy".
Einem Film, den ich zum ersten Mal sah als meine beste Freundin noch Norbert hieß und mir bei jeder meiner neuen Eroberungen einreden wollte, dass der Kerl im Grunde ja doch schwul ist.
Es gibt ihn nicht mehr, diesen Film. Ich konnte ihn irgendwann auf Englisch als Video auftreiben.
Könnte ich es, ich würde Euch gerne Sequenzen davon online stellen, aber da ich das nicht kann, gibt es nur Textpassagen.
Textpassagen aus einem für mich nach wie vor unter die Haut gehenden Monolog:
There's another group:
The hopeless, they break down into three mayor cathegories
- married
- just in for the weeend
- terminally straight.
Those affairs are the worst!
You go into them with yor eyes open, knowing all the limitations, accepting them entirely, and then wham-bam you write letters to "dear abbie" and you're burning black candles at midnight.
And you ask yourself "What happened?"
And I tell you "What happened?". You got just what you wanted.
The person who ist mature enough to handle an affair that's hopeless - from the beginning! - ist very same the person that keeps the publishers from gothic romances up to their tragic endings in mink.
(...)
For those, who might not have guessed: I am an entertainer - or what's left upon. I'm among the last of a dying breed. But that's all right. With a voice and a face like that I got nothing to worry about - I can always drive a cab.
You know there are easier things in this life than being a drag-queen. But I ain't got no choice. See - I try as may ... I just can't walk in flats.
(...)
You know there was one guy once - his name was Charlie.
Oh he was everything you could want in an affair and more.
Oh he was tall, handsom, deaf. ... The deafness was the "more".
Well he never yelled at me, never complained if I snored, all his friends was nice and quiet.
I even learned some of this deaf-sign-language ...
oh I remember some:
.... - means cockroach.
.... - means fuck.
Oh this is my favorite ..... means "I love you". And I did too. But uhm .... not enough.
You know in my life I've slept with more men than are named an numbered in the bible - old an new testament put together.
And not once has someone said: "Arnold, I love you." - that I could believe it.
And I aske myself: "Do you really care?"
You know the only honest answer I could give myself is: "Yes I care, I really care. I do. But ...... not enough."
Einem Film, den ich zum ersten Mal sah als meine beste Freundin noch Norbert hieß und mir bei jeder meiner neuen Eroberungen einreden wollte, dass der Kerl im Grunde ja doch schwul ist.
Es gibt ihn nicht mehr, diesen Film. Ich konnte ihn irgendwann auf Englisch als Video auftreiben.
Könnte ich es, ich würde Euch gerne Sequenzen davon online stellen, aber da ich das nicht kann, gibt es nur Textpassagen.
Textpassagen aus einem für mich nach wie vor unter die Haut gehenden Monolog:
There's another group:
The hopeless, they break down into three mayor cathegories
- married
- just in for the weeend
- terminally straight.
Those affairs are the worst!
You go into them with yor eyes open, knowing all the limitations, accepting them entirely, and then wham-bam you write letters to "dear abbie" and you're burning black candles at midnight.
And you ask yourself "What happened?"
And I tell you "What happened?". You got just what you wanted.
The person who ist mature enough to handle an affair that's hopeless - from the beginning! - ist very same the person that keeps the publishers from gothic romances up to their tragic endings in mink.
(...)
For those, who might not have guessed: I am an entertainer - or what's left upon. I'm among the last of a dying breed. But that's all right. With a voice and a face like that I got nothing to worry about - I can always drive a cab.
You know there are easier things in this life than being a drag-queen. But I ain't got no choice. See - I try as may ... I just can't walk in flats.
(...)
You know there was one guy once - his name was Charlie.
Oh he was everything you could want in an affair and more.
Oh he was tall, handsom, deaf. ... The deafness was the "more".
Well he never yelled at me, never complained if I snored, all his friends was nice and quiet.
I even learned some of this deaf-sign-language ...
oh I remember some:
.... - means cockroach.
.... - means fuck.
Oh this is my favorite ..... means "I love you". And I did too. But uhm .... not enough.
You know in my life I've slept with more men than are named an numbered in the bible - old an new testament put together.
And not once has someone said: "Arnold, I love you." - that I could believe it.
And I aske myself: "Do you really care?"
You know the only honest answer I could give myself is: "Yes I care, I really care. I do. But ...... not enough."