By the time I’d left Action magazine and struck out on my own as a one man advertising agency, most of the reprobates and shitheads I suffered at Action were long gone. I’m not a New York city landlord and thus, could evict anyone I wanted from my list of clients. Which was something I did often and with impunity. But back when I was an employee and just beginning in the adult ad world, company policy dictated that I had to court some of the most reprehensible human beings I’d ever met.
Very likely number one on that list was a supreme asshole who called himself Darren. A good-looking and fast-talking Italian (I believe) from Brooklyn, Darren prided himself on delivering girls from the Midwest to his horny customers, the great majority of whom he enticed through his ad in Action. Generating most of his business from the magazine did not prevent him from jeopardizing his standing at the firm by running a large and extended tab for his ads. And I was the guy stuck with the job of hounding this deadbeat for his money. It was a thankless and harrowing task I absolutely hated!
The usual routine was to call the guy hoping to arrange a $1600 payment for his monthly ad. Good luck with that! After half a dozen solicitations, he might break down and tell me to meet him at some far-off location at which point I’d get $300 toward his bill. And then days later, I’d have to begin the process all over again with the same result. Predictably, his tab got bigger and bigger over time, causing my boss to ask me “what’s the problem?” very well knowing who and what I was dealing with. This bull shit is of course, all part of being an employee.
But this was just the beginning of what I didn’t like about Darren. He was also biseuxal, and would occasionally leer at and or touch me in ways that made my skin crawl. Here the guy was torturing me with endless work and humiliation trying to get his stupid ass to pay – all while having the nerve to crash on me. Blecccch!
After going awol for about two weeks, Darren called up to confess he’d been arrested in Florida and was in big trouble. Apparently, he and his crew had been out drinking and crashing on girls at a club. In competition for whatever girl or group, they’d gotten into a brawl with an off-duty cop who they beat up and almost killed! And a witness fingered Darren as the worst offender! Nice fucking guy!
Being the sort of individual I am (the sort who doesn’t need a lot of money to live and doesn’t care about material horse shit), I pleaded with my boss to simply dump this asshole and not run his ad until he’d paid up. But my superiors at Action were addicted to their Harley 1250’s and sports cars and reasoned that whatever money he paid was still cash they could use to pay off their debts. And as their employee, it was my job to chase this douchebag ad nauseum. They weren’t hearing it.
The final blow came when my immediate boss went over my head and called Darren to ask why he was so delinquent with his payments (even though he knew what a piece of shit Darren was when he gave me the account). And somehow, Darren convinced my asshole superior (and trust me, my superior was an even bigger asshole than Darren) that in fact, he was making all these payments. It was just that I was stealing the money!
And that was it! I told my boss in no uncertain terms that I did not steal even a penny of Darren’s payments…that I would never speak to Darren again…and if my boss didn’t like it, he could fire me right then and there. And it worked. I kept my job and lost the asshole. But it took this schmuck accusing me of stealing his money to finally get rid of him.
I only spoke with Darren once more after that. Years later, a she male who’d starred in a reality show called me to ask if I would manage her career. (I kid you not.) She then said “I have an old friend of yours here who wants to speak to you” and put Asshole on the phone! I assume he was over there to suck Miriam’s cock and upon gossiping and discovering she knew me well (for years), he thought maybe I might like to join the fun. (I think I’m gonna vomit.)
Anyway…so goes the legend of Darren and his bull shit excuse for an escort service. Joe Rose made me deal with a lot of assholes when I was his employee. But Darren was hands down the worst. And that’s how he made the blog today.