Back in my L.A. days, I did some extra work at a small studio in the Valley. Not a big deal, film called Marissa, just a day of work on a party scene (pre-SAG). Except, and I should have realized, what shoots in the Valley is mainly porn. Yup, the San Fernando Valley is home to the biggest names in smut production. At first, nothing unusual. I get to the address a little early, there's gaffers and electricians setting up, a little disorganized, but some productions can't seem to find their ass with both hands. There's me and a few other extras hanging around waiting to see what happens. Then, the "talent" arrived. On a small film, you don't necessarily recognize the leads, they're not major players, they might never be, but this group was definitely different. A handsome, dark haired guy named Alex needed to change, and so dropped trou in front of everyone, no underwear, and a very nice ass. With my background, it didn't really phase me even when I realized it was a porn shoot. I thought it was kind of funny, actually, but another extra started to freak out. Brooke's claim to fame was that she had been a hand-double for Mena Suvari, and "Oh God! I can't be in a porno, I want to have a real career!" I pointed out to her that they weren't doing any sex scenes, more than likely no one would know about it unless she told them, and if she left, she wouldn't get paid for the day. She ended up staying, but you could feel the attitude from across the room.
I was feeling kind of at home, talking with a muscular blonde named Adam. He was a minor player, not terribly tall, but well-built and sweet, definitely attractive. He said he had his SAG card, but porn was easy and paid well, he'd pretty much given up his acting aspirations and was just putting money in the bank. I was glad the days of guys in porn looking like Ron Jeremy were over. We ate lunch together, chatted between takes, had a pleasant day. Besides a few risque jokes, it was a pretty typical shoot. He asked me out to dinner, but I regretfully declined due to being married and all. Adam looked disappointed enough to give my ego a nice boost. It feels good to have that little electric frisson run down your spine, especially after having been married for nine or ten years at the time.
He told me his porn name was John Decker, so of course I had to check him out. I guess that's a little weird, but I was curious. He didn't disappoint. And, yes, NSA knew all about it. When you make a life-long commitment at nineteen, your partner should be understanding enough to allow for a little wiggle room. I still think about Adam once in a while, file that memory under "sweet, but not meant to be."