Brunch with a Pornstar … Part 2

This is a continuation on from my previous post Bruch With a Porn Star…

Julie Spears (not her real name) is a warm, funny, beautiful, crass, crazy, head-strong woman, who loves attention. She is also an award winning pornstar from LA, adult film industry mogul and escort, who is now a (non-adult) film producer.

She was more than happy to open up about her life, in every detail possible. But I'll warn you, getting to know her, meant taking a seat on an emotional roller coaster. Allow me to share what it was like from my perspective:


I WAS EXCITED - to be in the presence of a real life porn star.

THEN MORIFIED - when she looked at a man standing on the curb, and yelled “He’s fuckable! Pity about the girlfriend.”

I WAS JEALOUS - when she told me her hourly rate ranged from $1500 to $2000. And that she lived on 5th Avenue.

I FELT SORRY - that the one steady man in her life, that she claimed to have quit porn for, and whom she'd convinced to leave his wife, lived in Brazil and was messing her around.

I WASN’T SURPRISED when she told me that she had owned a dungeon in LA.

Then she said: “I had a client that was into public humiliation. So one night at The Standard Hotel, I grabbed him by the tie and said - I’m going to pee on you, come with me.”

She took him into the public toilets at the hotel, and when security knocked to see what was going on, she just yelled “It’s Julie! And do you mind? – I’m trying to pee on someone here!!”
To which Security answered “Oh, sorry Julie. Go right a head!”

I WAS CURIOUS - about peeing on people etiquette.
“Do you put their head in the bowl? So you hover over them and the toilet at the same time to catch the drippings?” I enquired.
“No no. You lie them down on the floor, with their head near the base of the toilet. Then you straddle them, and pee on their face, in their mouth, and then all the way down and pee on their genitals.”
“Oh… So it just runs all over the floor?”
“Yah ha.”
“And the people at The Standard don’t mind the mess?”
“No, they let me do anything I want there.”
Beat.
“Who want’s another wine?”

**

I WAS UNDERSTANDING – when she whinged about how hard it is to get laid in New York.

I FELT SAD – when she told me that her cat died on the same day as her Mother, just this June.

I ADMIRED HER - when I found out she had taken care of her elderly mother, all on her own, for the past 16 years. And that she was also supporting her mentally ill sister in full time care. She really WAS a sweetheart.

I FELT JOY – when she described the LA funeral, she threw for her Mother:
It was themed in hot pink, (her mother’s favourite colour).
A website was launched to honour her mother, so people could post on her wall.
Ashes were sprinkled into the ocean from a hot-pink, bio-degradable urn.
Everyone had to wear hot-pink.
A monk performed the ceremony.
Then afterwards, they held an extravagant beach-house party.

I FELT WEIRD when she said she had an evil streak in her, and once vengefully drugged a man, and raped him with a strap on, and thought she’d accidentally killed him. (Oh… and she revived him by giving him an enema shower.)

I FELT GREATFUL, that I was meeting her now, rather than in my past, when I may have judged her too quickly.

And then we saw William Defoe standing about 5 meters away. He didn't look half as scary as he does in films.

**

I WAS DELIGHTED - when Julie said she much prefers to have sex with men in their early 20’s, and no matter how old she gets they are always going to be her target market.

I FELT UNEASY- because she had an interesting theory on why Women freak out at 30 and Men do the same at 40.

“Those are the ages when you realise your target market no longer wants to fuck you,” she said with authority.

For some reason, perhaps because I’m nearing 29, this hit a nerve.

I FELT EMPATHY - when she admitted that at 34 years of age, she was having an identity crisis. And she was freaking out about inevitable physical changes in her body; like loosing her hair, make-up not going on her skin like it used to. She looks back on her success in the porn industry with yearning. In New York, she feels sad, depressed and lonely.

I FELT IN AWE - when she told me of the good advocacy she had done for women in the industry, of the successful media and internet businesses she had run and the number of employees she had under her.

I WAS AMAZED - that there is such a thing as “Hooker Rehab.” And when she wrote her annual income on their assessment form, the social worker considered changing professions. (Julie was grossing half a million a year at the height of her career.)

I FELT DISTURBED - in the taxi on the way to a roof top bar, when the cab driver asked if a woman can have two men inside her at the same time, and Julie’s answer was: “Listen honey – a woman can have two FISTS inside her at the same time!”

I FELT EMBARASSED - when at the bar, after too much alcohol, she commented on what would get her pussy wet, in an attempt to seduce anyone within hearing distance.

I FELT SORRY FOR HER - when after explaining who she was to the bouncer at Pastis, and working her charm for 20 minutes, he still didn’t give us a table or a shit.

I FELT PROTECTIVE OF HER - when I watched her self esteem crumple to the floor as the night progressed, and her mission of getting laid turned desperate.

TBC ...