Show Biz...Good Old Screw Everyone You Know Biz

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Show Biz...Good Old Screw Everyone You Know Biz

MarcoPolo

New Registrant
That's a line from an old Helen Reddy song, but it fits my experience. Ironically, the song was introduced to me by a producer (and family friend) who groomed me for a few years, and then became angry with me when he found out that I was having sex with other men in the company but wouldn't give in to his advances. He first befriended me when I was twelve. Fast forward a few years to the summer I was sixteen. I still remember him sitting in the car beside me that day. We were driving to a rehearsal. He had heard rumors that I was having sex with a 32 year old actor in the company. He was leaning into me physically, and I was trying to resist being in physical contact with him, because I found him sort of disgusting. I wouldn't confirm the rumors of my activities with the actor, though they were true. The producer stopped wheedling me for a confession, but said "Well, just remember, when you start giving it out, I'm first in line." I never did give in to his advances, and we actually remained on good terms after that, but those words ring in my mind to this day. They had a deep and chilling effect upon me. They seemed to suggest that all the nice things he had done for me since I was twelve were done with an ulterior motive. So when he revealed that he wanted to have sex with me, it actually broke my heart in a way. Because I had trusted him, my parents had trusted him with me, and thought I was being treated like an adult because I was special, and he liked and appreciated me. I thought he would help me have a career as a performer. About five years ago, I mentioned all this to a woman who had known us both back in those days. She was defensive of him, saying she didn't think he was a pedophile. She rationalized his advances by saying they were a reflection of that era, the sexually-liberated 1970's, and that "everybody was screwing everybody back then." Maybe she's right. It's complicated. I'm still grateful to him for all the good times we had before he made that pass at me. He would sneak me out of school and take me to see movies and shows. He introduced me to famous and near-famous people, and gave me gifts. He wasn't all bad. He was just partially bad. I would like to yell at him for leaning on me in the car, but he died a few years ago. I know I was just a kid at the time, but I still wish I had yelled back then instead of just freezing up and wishing it away. Oh well. This is hardly my worst story, but in some ways, it had the deepest impact.
 
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