Mario's Date with Rob Lowe

West Hollywood, September 1987

When I first arrived in West Hollywood in 1985, Rob Lowe was an androgynous prettyboy who took off his shirt a lot in Brat Pack classics like The Outsiders (1983), Class (1983), The Hotel New Hampshire (1984), Oxford Blues (1984), and St. Elmo's Fire (1985).

His fire faded a bit during the late 1980s, and his career almost fizzled out in 1988, after a tape surfaced of him and friend Justin Morritt having sex with a woman in a hotel room the night before the Democratic National Convention in Atlanta (there were actually two women there, but one doesn't appear on the tape).

Such shenanigans didn't ruin his popularity with gay fans, or the belief that he was probably gay himself. Even though he, and his Brat Pack buddies, made some of the most horrifically homophobic movies of the 1980s.  Even though he married Sheryl Berkoff in 1991 and had two children (Matthew and John Owen).

We still figured he was gay.  Why else would he star in the gay subtext-filled Bad Influence (1990) and The Finest Hour (1992), as  the psychiatrist treating the dead gay guy's sister in Suddenly Last Summer (1993), and as the mute, angelic, asexual Nick Stavros in The Stand (1994)?  Why else would he appear at so many AIDS Walks and AIDS benefits?

Why else would half the guys in West Hollywood claim to have dated him?

During my 10 years in West Hollywood, I heard about a dozen "my date with Rob Lowe" stories.  The one that sounds the most believable is from Mario, the wannabe actor who picked me up at the Different Light Bookstore.

He was black, rather feminine, thin and willowy, wearing gold rings, bracelets, and necklaces -- an immediate turnoff.  But he was also shorter than me, dark skinned, with glasses that gave him a studious look.

During dinner at the Greenery, I told him about my Celebrity Boyfriend, who dumped me for Alan the Pentecostal Porn Star.

He said, "Honey, forget those minor teen idol wannabes. You gotta start at the top.  Take me: I was in town about a month before I had a date with the super-hung superstar Rob Lowe!"

Hollywood, Spring 1981

Mario was 18 years old, a transplant from Richmond, Virginia, living in a tiny apartment off Selma with a drag queen named Esther Dicks, and eager to break into acting,   So far he had danced in a shoe commercial, and played basketball on a episode of Saved by the Bell.  

Then he got a starring role in a tv movie starring Vicki Lawrence (Mama's Family) as the owner of a hip jeans store.  He played the best friend of her son, Tucker:

A 16 year old actor named Rob Lowe.

Rob was a junior at Santa Monica High School, a handsome prettyboy with incredible eyes and a bulge that wouldn't quit.

Although he had starred in A New Kind of Family (1979-80) and an Afterschool Special, and had a few articles in teen magazines, Mario didn't know him.

He didn't come out, of course -- he invented a fake girlfriend back home in Virginia.  Rob said he hadn't dated much -- he was "shy" around girls.

"Uh-huh, honey, you know what that means."

They bonded during filming.  Rob invited him to a weekly basketball game that Garry Marshall (Laverne and Shirley) held at his house in Tarzana for every cute boy he could find.  Vince Van Patten and Ralph Macchio were there.

"So, Garry Marshall is gay?" I asked in surprise.

"Ain't nobody in Hollywood who's not gay, once they get a few beers in them."

One night Rob invited him over for dinner at his house in Malibu  -- "It wasn't no palace, by a long shot.  It looked like somebody air-lifted it from Wichita, Kansas. They didn't even have a swimming pool!"

Afterwards they went up to his room and watched Magnum, P.I. and drank beers they sneaked from the refrigerator.  They discussed whether Tom Selleck was gay, and whether he was hung.

"He's got nothing on me!"  Mario exclaimed.  "Why, when I get going, the honeys all be screaming 'It's too big!  It's too big!'"

They sat together on the floor, their knees touching.  Mario saw Rob starting to tent.

"Well, I'm not one to let an opportunity like that slip by!  I took the bull by the horns, by which I mean I fondled him until he pulled it out and let me go down on it.  Gigantic, baby!  8 inches!"

It took him a long time to finish -- not that Mario minded! But, Rob didn't reciprocate; afterwards he zipped up again, and they continued watching tv as if nothing had happened.

They got together a few more times after that.  Oral only -- Rob wouldn't go down on Mario, or even kiss him.  And when the filming ended, they moved on to other projects, and didn't stay in touch.

Evidence that Mario's story was accurate:

1. Rob Lowe did star in a pilot for Garry Marshall, Mean Jeans, with Vickie Lawrence as the owner of a hip jeans shop. He says it was in early 1980, not 1981.  His character was named Tucker.  That information was not readily available in 1987.

Here's a picture of his best friend -- I can't find the name, but he looks a lot like Mario.

2. Mario got other details right: living in Malibu, the "shy around girls," the basketball games at Garry Marshall's house, the size of his penis (before the sex tape made it common knowledge).

Evidence that he was exaggerating or making the whole thing up:

1. Wouldn't Mario remember that his first major acting job was in a tv pilot, not a movie?

2. A tv pilot takes about a week to shoot.  How did they have time to bond, play basketball, have dinner, and become intimate several times?

3. Rob Lowe doesn't mention any same-sex intimacies in his autobiography, Love Life, but he does say that he was into "experimentation" in high school.

See also:  Rob Lowe

My Hookup with Robert Redford

West Hollywood, February 1986

One Sunday after church, my ex boyfriend Alan, the Pentecostal Porn Star, appears at my table at the French Quarter. "Are you doing anything Tuesday night?"

"The usual -- gym, Chinese food, and Who's the Boss.  Why?"

"Well, put Tony Danza on hold.  We're going to Mann's Chinese for the premiere of The Hitcher.  A guy I met at the gym has a part in it, and he invited us."

"Um...thanks, but no thanks."

"Why?  What's wrong with The Hitcher?"

I listed the reasons.

1. We have only been broken up for a little over a month, and I'm not totally comfortable with your  "cruising together" thing.

2. I don't go to many movies, maybe five per year.  There are no theaters in West Hollywood, so you have to go into hetero-territory, put up with heterosexual couples, or worse, groups of hetero boys who sit with one seat between them so their bodies won't touch; plus heterosexist plotlines and endless homophobic jibes.

3. The Hitcher?  The previews look horrible.  Bloody, violent, sadistic movie about a young man who picks up a hitcher who frames him for murder.  I only go to comedies starring cute guys, or any movie where you see a guy's cock or butt.

"Would it sweeten the deal if I told you we will be sharing Robert Redford?"

"Um...what?  Robert Redford, the movie star?"

"Jon said that Redford is like his best friend, and wants to share, but only if I bring a friend of my own along.  I figured, with you being a big celebrity groupie, you'd jump at the chance."

True.   Tall redheads aren't really my thing -- I like my men short and dark-skinned -- but Redford is certainly famous, with lots of Oscars and Golden Globes and at least two gay-subtext movies (The Sting and Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid).  

Sharing Redford would certainly make a better party story than lunch with Michael J. Fox or brushing against the knee of the King of Sweden.

But...'Wait...sharing on your first date?  That's a little weird, isn't it?  Maybe he's just dangling Robert Redford in front of your nose like a carrot, just to get into your pants."

"Maybe," Alan admits.

"And why does he even want this four way on a first date?"

"He actually just wanted me and Redford, but it's dangerous going home with two guys you don't know.  They could be bashers.  But two guys going home with two guys evens out the situation.  It's not a trick, it's a party!"

"Well...."  Even if the Redford thing is a hoax, movie premieres have premiere parties, with cruising gay and closeted celebrities.   And I'll be sharing with Alan -- even though we've broken up, I really miss sex with him. He's very energetic, very passionate, and super-hung.  "Sure.  Sounds like fun."

The Premiere

Jon is in his late 20s or early 30s, a little shorter than me, with dark curly hair, a square jaw, and a firm but not muscular physique.  I can't see a bulge.

Turns out that he's from Indiana, like my parents; he majored in theology at Butler University in Indianapolis, then moved to Los Angeles, where he's been on Black Sheep Squadron, Hart to Hart, Baretta, and a lot of other tv series I never saw.  He was on the series finale of MASH. 

"So that's what got Alan interested!" I exclaim.  "He'd go out with anybody who was on MASH, or who could sing the theme song, or who has seen an episode."

Jon doesn't get the joke.  "No, what attracted Alan was that we're both recovering fundamentalists.  I can quote chapter and verse of Galatians in the original Koine Greek."

"I'm more into French, myself," I say flirtatiously.  "So, what's Robert Redford into?"

"He's into everything but bottoming. But very closeted.  I don't think he's ever had a boyfriend.  He only goes with guys when I invite them over to share."

"So...where is he?" Alan asks.

"He couldn't make the premiere, but we'll meet up later."

The movie is awful -- it literally makes me sick, both from the gore and from the heterosexist myth that all men hate each other: every man the protagonist encounters is evil, belligerent, or bullying, while every woman is kind, sympathetic, and loving.  Jon's character is on-screen for about two seconds. 

 I pass the time by fondling Jon's knee and imagining going down on him while Alan goes down on Robert Redford.  Or going down on Robert Redford while Jon goes down on Alan.  Or....

The Restaurant

After the premiere, I thought we'd go to the after-party, to hobnob with the star, C. Thomas Howell, and maybe get his phone number -- he's gay, right?

Instead, Jon drives us to a restaurant -- and not even a nice restaurant.  Mel's Drive In on Sunset, a faux greasy spoon probably named after Mel's Diner on Alice.  Not at all the sort of place a big star would hang out.

Not at all the sort of place three gay men would hang out, either.  Wall-to-wall hetero couples!

"Where is Redford?" Jon asks.  "He said he would meet us here at 11:00."

We order hamburgers and french fries, chat in that closeted way that gay men do when they infiltrate the straight world, and keep looking at the door.

"That flighty queen!  I'll bet he forgot!"

It's midnight.  I have to be up at 6:00 am tomorrow.  And I have the distinct impression that Jon is putting us on about the Redford thing.

"Let's just give him a miss and go back to Alan's apartment," I suggest.  "We can share another time."

"Fine with me," Alan says.

"No, this is ridiculous!" Jon exclaims. "He does this all the time.  I set us up with a hot guy, and he bails at the last minute.  His ex-wife calls, or he sees someone he knows on the street, or who knows what.  I say we drive out to his house, bring the party to him!"

Malibu

Redford has a beach house out in Malibu, a good half-hour drive away.  Granted, it's a nice house, from what little we can see in the dark.

Jon buzzes.  No answer.

He buzzes again.  No answer.

"I know he's in there!"

On the third try,  we hear a sleepy voice..  "Yeah?"

"It's Jon.  I have Alan and Boomer with me."

"Oh, shit, was that tonight?  Hang on."  He buzzes us through the gate, and a moment later opens the front door.

Robert Redford, a little scraggly looking, in a bathrobe, hugs Jon and shakes our hands.  "Sorry, guys, I forgot all about dinner...and I'm really not up for entertaining right now.  I was in bed."

"Well, can we at least spend the night?" Jon asks.  "Maybe you'll be up for it in the morning."

"Sure, come on in."  Redford and his dogs lead us through the living room and down a corridor.  "You can have this room and the one across the hall.  You can split it up amongst yourselves.  If you need anything, tough, I'm going to bed."

We all pick the same room, of course.  Jon has a hairy chest and an average-sized penis.  I go down on him for a few minutes, as a courtesy, but spend most of my time going down on Alan, while he and Jon are kissing.  Then Jon goes down on me, but not long enough for me to finish.  Alan spurts, but Jon does not.   They fall asleep in each other's arms.

The Hookup

Wide awake, horny, I get up to try to find the bathroom.  One of Redford's dogs approaches.

"You know where the bathroom is?" I ask.

He turns and leads me back to the master bedroom.

Redford is lying on the bed, in his bathrobe, reading a magazine.

"Oh, sorry.  I thought he was leading me to the bathroom."

"It's back that way," he says, pointing toward his left.  "And after you're done, you might as well take care of this for me."

"Um..."

Suddenly I don't have to go to the bathroom anymore.  I climb onto the bed, undo Redford's bathrobe, and find an uncut, soft cock, about 4".  It gets bigger as I touch and fondle it.  By the time I go down on him, Redford is a thick 7."  As I bob up and down, it gets even longer, and harder.

He keeps up a nonstop dialogue.  "That's it...more tongue action. Yeah...yeah...I'm coming...."

I swallow his load, go into the bathroom to wash over -- and urinate -- then return to the bed for cuddling.

But Redford says "I'm a little tired -- don't you think you should be back in your own bed?"

I return to my own bed, where Alan and Jon are snoring, and squeeze in to Jon's side.

In the morning we get up early "to miss the traffic," and leave without waking Redford.

The Fabrication

Some of this story is pure fabrication -- I made it up.  Can you figure out which parts are real and which are not?

1. The Premiere
2. The Restaurant
3. Malibu
4. The Hookup

Answer after the break