Posts Tagged ‘RUB’

The Photo That Launched A Thousand Ticket Sales

Posted August 21st, 2012

Gunnar…being straddled.

I am at a cafe because of an anointed brunette. I have driven across the city—Northern Liberties to the Italian market—and renegotiated time and place. She’s angelic, but she’s not churchly: in the photograph a trailing cord of electrical wire barely covers the nipples of her large breasts, and she holds a drill in front of a G-string whose color so closely mirrors her skin-tone I’m convinced she’s not wearing anything. Except her high-heeled patent leather boots.

I am at a cafe because of an anointed brunette. I wait. Gunnar Montana texts me: “I’m here a little early.” I’m here too I text back, and scan the cafe for the face behind this oiled woman—all at once, this is everyone. The low-talking, skinny young man behind the counter. The bleached blonde woman in the corner. But not Gunnar; he’s missed my text, walked in and out, and gone elsewhere to kill time: “Oh shit! / I just ordered a beer at the pope / Let me chug that real fast unless u wanna join me.”

I gulp my blackberry vegan yogurt smoothie. If I don’t drink it fast enough the dairy might grow back. Four minutes later he joins me, and folds himself into the blue-green cushion of the window seat. We share its body-length, facing off. His right arm he drapes over the windowsill, and crosses his left leg over his right; Gunnar, artistic co-director (along with Jazmin Zieroff) of 2012 Philly Fringe’s RUB, is young, confident, and at ease.

“Right now I have this,” he says, picking up from the floor a round metal object: a silver star, oiled and dirty, encircled with the same metal. Gunnar had carried it with him to the cafe, walking his bicycle (because of a flat tire) in the other hand. I had driven.

“Is that a hubcap?” I ask.

“I guess. I don’t know what it is,” he says, laughing. It doesn’t last for long; Gunnar’s chuckling never seems to fully inhabit his face. “I found it on the street.”

After the jump: dancing, gender, work, and, you know, dancing.

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