The other day In Times Square some guy named Josh Drimmer decided to take a stroll. Nothing unusual there, it's a cool place to wander around. Lots to see. But good old Josh decided he'd like to do it naked so he stripped down to his birthday suit and gave the tourists something else to see. Now Times Square is a pretty wild place, long known as a pretty wide open sexual supermarket, what with the peep shows, adult clubs and no shortage of ladies of the evening.
Only problem was, this wasn't the evening. Broad daylight, eleven in the morning on a Thursday afternoon. That time of day all the self-respecting perverts and professional ladies are sleeping and Times Square is full of tourists, taxis and workers taking an early lunch. So the guy kind of stood out. He ambled along pretty casually, wearing only a little piece of jewelry on his ankle and checking his messages on his cell phone, not a care in the world. People made a few comments but no one hassled him, at least not at first.
Naked strolling must be hungry work so Josh decided to hit the Olive Garden, which was not yet open for business. Instead of finding someplace that was open and one with maybe a less stringent dress code, the guy starts banging on the locked door to the Olive Garden. When the workers wouldn't let him in he crossed the street to Tad's Steak House and jumped up and down on the counter. If you want service in a restaurant in Manhattan that's probably one of the least effective ways to get your waiter's attention.
He did get the bouncer's attention, though, and got thrown out of Tad's and the cops were called. New York's Finest are nothing if not thorough professionals. The first officer on the scene asked Josh if he had any identification. Naked stroller or not, this officer was doing it by the book. Needless to say, Josh had no ID on him. Somebody brought his clothes from where he had left them but Josh figured he liked being naked and refused to put them on. Well, that was that and before you could say Lady Godiva Josh is headed for Bellevue Hospital for observation, observation usually meaning being strapped to a gurney and being injected with something quite soothing.
So a day later Josh tells The New York Post he was having a bad day and had a panic attack. I don't buy it. Not the bad day part, thats pretty obvious when you're locked up in a mental ward and under arrest for public lewdness. I mean the panic attack bit. I know people who get panic attacks and the last thing they want to do in the midst of one is to draw any attention to themselves, so forget that angle.
Call me me clairvoyant but I strongly sense that stripping naked in broad daylight and walking around Times Square is an attempt to garner attention. But attention for what is the question. It's obvious he wasn't trolling for females since his body is a pasty white formless blob with no discernible muscle tone and sporting a decidedly small set of family jewels. So I guess he wasn't auditioning for a male model job either. Maybe checking his messages and talking on his cell phone was an attempt to land a part in one of those off-beat cell phone commercials. He'd be okay in the part of the nerd, but a naked nerd? Doesn't add up.
Well, it turns out that Josh Drimmer is a playwright who lives in Brooklyn and a Yale graduate who writes a blog on Myspace. So I figure the guy's no dummy and he's trying to draw attention to his plays and blog writings. So I check out his blog and it tuns out he is a dummy after all, a major jerk-off. Apparently he fancies himself an esoteric philosopher and some sort of music reviewer. Only problem is that he's reviewing music released many years ago. I think the jury's in on Sly Stone and Fleetwood Mac, Josh. As far as the philosophy goes, well, if whining about stupid shit qualifies then he's your man.
As for his plays I didn't get to read any of them but apparently one has been performed in some repertory company and he's had a few one-acters staged at a theater workshop. I don't know much about the play writing game but it seemed he was on the right track, getting some workshop feedback from people in that world. I hope his writing for his plays is a little less elliptical and show-offy than his blog ranting. I couldn't make head or tails out of most of it, coming away with the impression that this is a guy who thinks that he's smarter than the average bear and is really a clue-free jackass. People who go to plays are generally pretty intelligent people who can wrap their brains around some pretty esoteric stuff but I don't think they enjoy condescension from a maladjusted little punk and his inside jokes that only he gets. Just a wild guess.
So now I 'm asking myself do I really want to interview this guy? This time I did some research beforehand, tried to find out something about my subject, unlike my first few interviews where I was basically winging it. I'm tempted to go back to that approach because the more I find out about him the less I like him. You'd think a guy who walked naked through Times Square in broad daylight would be a colorful character, a bit of a wild man with an entertaining personality. This guy's a cipher with nothing to say and a big sissy to boot. What a disappointment.
Well, the hell with interviewing the naked guy! Life's too short to waste my time with sniveling wimps. I already wasted too many irretrievable hours of my life reading his unreadable writing and reading stuff about him. Can you say tedium, boys and girls? Maybe I'll just open this box of chocolates I was going to bring him in the hospital and share them with the lovely wife. I hate this research stuff. You think a guy is a talented and interesting eccentric who pulled off an outrageous publicity stunt and you find out you're dealing with a namby-pamby you wouldn't notice in a thousand years unless he was naked in Times Square. No, bobcrespo.com won't waste time and virtual ink on this guy.
Sorry for promising you an interview and not delivering, but believe me, it's all for the best. If you don't believe me, look up his blog and see if you don't thank me for breaking an appointment with a mental patient and eating his chocolates.