Monday, November 9, 2015

Heinz and His Creepy Obsession

West Hollywood, October 1987

During my second year in West Hollywood, I lived with Alan in the bottom of a brown stucco duplex near Plummer Park, while my on-off boyfriend Raul lived a 45 minute drive away, in East L.A.

In August, Alan moved to Thailand, and I got a new roommate from an ad in Frontiers:  Derek, a former fitness model who had a house near the corner of Sunset and San Vicente.

At the same moment, Raul suddenly decided that he wanted to live in West Hollywood, so he moved just around the corner from Alan's duplex.

He couldn't have done this last year, and saved me countless hours on the 101 Freeway?

It wasn't even a very nice house: 1950s-modern, half ugly stucco and half beige slabs, with no garage, so you had to drive around looking for a parking space for an hour.

I think Raul moved because he was interested in his new housemate, Heinz, who we met at the gym: originally from Germany, a cinematographer at Paramount in his early 60s, with a salt-and-pepper beard, a buffed, hairy chest, thick biceps, and a Bratwurst beneath the belt.

If Raul wanted a Daddy, fine.  We might even develop a polyamorous three-way relationship.

But Heinz turned out to be crazy.

1. He yelled at you for walking across his white carpet.  You had to take your shoes and socks off.


2. He ate out every night -- not always in gay restaurants -- so there was nothing in his half of the refrigerator except doggie bags, leftover Chinese food cartons, and Jimmy Dean's sausage-biscuit sandwiches (he microwaved one for breakfast every morning).

30 years later, I still can't bring myself to eat one of those breakfast sandwiches.

3. He listened to a terrible German boy band, and walked through the house singing:  "Come away wiz me tu Molly-Byu, tu Molly-Byu, tu Molly-Byu" over and over.  I think it meant "to Malibu."

30 years later, those lyrics are still rumbling through my brain.

4. He liked women.

We had all grown up amid a constant mind-control drone of  "Every man is attracted to women!  You are attracted to women!"  We fought long and hard for the freedom to say "No!  We're not!"  So any statement expressing an interest in women, or the most fleeting awareness of feminine beauty,   marked you as a traitor to the cause of gay rights.

For that reason, we didn't have female friends.  We might have acquaintances to say "hello" to on the street, but we never socialized with women or invited them to our events.

But I noticed immediately the paintings of elegantly-attired women in Heinz' living room and study.  And only a few days after Raul moved in, I came over to pick him up for a date, and Heinz said "What are you doing?  You can't go out tonight!  Don't you know what's on tv?"


It was Saturday night.  "Um...The Golden Girls?"

"You're kidding, right?  It' the Miss America Pageant!"

"Um...why would we want to watch women in swimsuits?"

"It's the Miss America Pageant!" he repeated slowly, as if we were dense.

We ran.

Later, when Raul brought up "sharing," I said "No way!  Heinz is too old, too weird, and too breeder for me!"

A breeder was a heterosexual, or a gay guy who was trying to "pass" as heterosexual.

It turned out that Heinz had several female friends who visited the house or took him out to lunch, where they intersected with my circle of friends.

Of course, tongues started to wag.

Was he  trying to pass? Had he been brainwashed to believe that men were incomplete without women?  Was he trying to "change"?

My friends stopped accepting my invitations -- guilt by association -- or said "That crazy Heinz won't be around, will he?"


Then Raul, following Heinz's example, started hanging out with a lady: Gina from work, an aspiring actress who had been in two commercials and guest starred on a sitcom.

One day I saw Heinz, Raul, and their lady friends all having brunch at the French Quarter, looking for all the world like two straight couples.

Raul even brought her to my housemate Derek's Halloween party. They came as Pebbles and Bam-Bam from The Flintstones.

Derek was not amused.

This creepy girl-obsession had to stop!  Time to remind Heinz and Raul that they were gay!

The next Monday, I dropped in unexpectedly.

Heinz opened the door.  "Boomer!  I didn't know that you and Raul and a date tonight!"

"We don't.  I was in the neighborhood...."

"Well, come in! We were just watching tv.  Designing Women."

Raul came out from the living room to kiss me hello.  Heinz was about to return to his seat on the couch, but instead I grabbed him and pulled him into a hug.  Raul joined in.

"Um...I didn't know you wanted to share..."  Heinz murmured.

"A hot stud like you?" I said.  "Are you kidding?"

We went upstairs to Heinz' bedroom, stripped, groped, and fondled.  I got on my knees for awhile.

Then Heinz lay on his back, threw his legs in the air, and started talking dirty.  He was a slut, a whore, a pig, a dirty girl, he wanted nasty things done to him, etc.

Neither of us cared to do nasty things to the "dirty girl."

But Raul continued to live with Heinz until we drifted apart in the early 1990s, so I had lots of opportunities to hear "Come away wiz me tu Molly-Bu, tu Molly-Bu, tu Molly-Bu."

See also: The Cowboy of Sunset Boulevard.

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