So, the this sketch was done the same night that I met the man who told me he knew Allen Ginsberg, a little bit earlier and out on the patio. When I was working on it, I had somebody come up, sit down next to me, and claim that they knew Andy Warhol.
“You’re really good,” he said, looking at the sketch.
“You’re really drunk,” I thought, but didn’t say. “Thanks,” I said instead.
“Seriously,” he said, probably hoping for more than a one word reply. “You’re very good. And that’s coming from Andy Warhol’s last lover.”
I’ll admit, it got me to look up at his face, even though getting complimented on drawing by Andy Warhol’s lover seems sort of like getting complimented on architecture by Frank Lloyd Wright’s nurse. Andy died around 20 years old ago now, so I do a bit of quick mental de-aging on the face that’s slurring words at me and figure that, yeah, maybe 20 years ago it was cute enough that Warhol in his twilight might have settled.
“Want a drink?” he asks. I refuse it, prudently, but continue to ask, less prudently, questions about Andy Warhol.
“What are your favorite artists ?” he asks me. I don’t remember what I named, but when I said Keith Haring he claimed that he knew him, too. All the masculine pronouns are getting to be a bit much here, I realize, but if I ever asked the guy’s name then I don’t remember what he told me. I do remember that he told me Keith Haring was shy and polite, Jean-Michel Basquait was fun but he only met him once, and he was surprised that I was interested to know more about Lou Reed.
“It’s unusual for your someone your age to like Lou Reed.” he tells me. I don’t know if that’s really true, but it’s true that people my age can have some pretty horrible taste in music.
I ask him what his favorite film depiction of Andy Warhol is, and he answers immediately that it’s Mary Harron’s film I Shot Andy Warhol. This rang true for me, because it’s my favorite film version of Warhol. I don’t know if I just liked the answer or if it actually made it more or less likely that the guy knew Warhol. He shows me a huge gold diamond bracelet that he’s wearing and says that Andy bought it for him. I don’t think that proves much of anything, either. I ask him what other famous people he’s met outside of Warhol’s old circle, and he tells me a story about Nathan Lane.
“Nathan Lane, he’s a horrible person,” he says. “I couldn’t stand him. He’s a horrible little troll. I met him at some sort of after party, and he kept trying to touch my ass. He’s about as tall as your elbow in person. He had just won the Tony or whatever for that, what was it called, The Producers or whatever, and so he thought he was really hot shit, thought he could do whatever he wanted.”
I have no idea whether I believed that story, either, but I really liked it. I did think that high-on-life feeling-entitled post-Tony Nathan Lane could have found a better ass to grab. So the guy thinks that he’s much cuter than he is. Maybe dating Andy Warhol could do that to you.
“Did Andy ever draw you?” I asked.
“No, I wouldn’t let him. I was too shy,” he said. “Stupid, right? I could be rich!”
Hm. I’m kind of over it, so I get more focused back on my drawing.
He seems to sense me drifting, and says, ” Seriously, though, Andy would have loved you.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. He loved people who were serious about what they’re doing. I can tell how focused you are… And Andy was actually very shy. He never liked people who were too outgoing. He would have gone for the person sitting on the side, like you.”
Just think, I could have been Andy Warhol’s lover! “What kind of boys did Andy like?”
“He liked, what would you call it, I guess swimmer’s build.”
So he liked young guys. I like the euphemism.
“Yeah, Andy would have loved you.”
He keeps bringing it back to Andy when I go quiet, so obviously he’s figured out that it’s the only thing he’s saying that I’m interested in. The fact that he keeps sitting there and offering me drinks anyway is somehow really sad. He says that’ he’s going to go to the bar, and asks again if I want something. I say, no, I’m going to stay where I am and keep drawing. Of course, as soon as he gets up I take the opportunity to leave.
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