Apparently I Look Like Richard Gere (and Other Reasons Why I Hate Him)

This weekend, while at a party at one Mike Shank’s pad, a young woman with whom i had spoken earlier in the night walked up to me while i was in a circle talking with Tea Krulos, J. Jason Groschopf and Mr. Dave Clay (names dropped to convey just how scene this party was. Yes indeed, i was hobnobbing with movers and shakers–as far as i’m concerned, anyway). She wanted to let me know that she thought i looked like Richard Gere in Pretty Woman, but without all the gray in the hair.

Now, i realize that this was meant as a sincere compliment, but i was unable to hide my obvious discomfort at this comparison. I managed to say “really?” instead of “Oh my fucking god i HATE Richard Gere with the passion of a thousand suns OMGWTFGROSS,” but when she looked at the other guys and said, “doesn’t he?” she caught me mouthing “NO” at them.

“What, isn’t that a compliment?”

“No, i mean, it is! Thank you!” I stammered, but she had realized that she had unwittingly insulted me, and walked away.

I felt bad. Whenever a young lady implies that you are attractive, you should say thank you, no matter how perplexed you are by her optical prescription. But two points:

1) I’m pretty sure i’ve hated every movie Richard Gere has ever been in. At least, i know for sure that i hated that streak he went on in the 1990s where he was always cast as the dashing, distinguished older leading man making crazy with the love scenes with whatever hot starlet was the “It Girl” of the day, despite the fact that he comes off like a smarmy douchenozzle. From my perspective, it started with the execrable Pretty Woman and continued with Sommersby, Intersection (where he was paired with TWO trendy starlets, for fuck’s sake), and the most offensive of the bunch, Dr. T and the Women.

Now, before you start wondering why the hell a straight man is watching these abominable chick flicks, let the record show that of all of these, i have only seen Pretty Woman. Once. On VHS. Because i think my mom taped it off Showtime or something. No, my vitriol is based solely in the trailers for these movies, all of which showed Douchey Dick in the throes of passion with his leading lady, as if to say “yes, i will be in your movie, but it’s in my contract that i be naked with the leading lady, and that my love scenes get as much exposure as humanly possible. In fact, i will only do Letterman and Leno if you ensure that they’ll ask me about faux-fucking these gorgeous broads.”

I mean, dig this bullshit right here:

Not only do we get a little bit of nakey Richard a mere 30 seconds in, but he’s got a fresh-off Silence of the Lambs Jodie Foster tenderly shaving his face and declaring with a straight face, “Ah nevah loved him the way ah love yew,” all against a sweeping Oscar-bait score meant to stir the loins of the most barren of tired Midwestern housewives. (And this is a borderline non-sequitur, but wtf is the Klan doing messing with Ricky when there’s a fricking black judge in town to harass?)

Crimes against film, i’m tellin’ ya.

But bottom line, i just don’t see the resemblance. Here, guess which one’s me:

Fig.1: Exhibit A—my pecs are much softer and more closely resemble female breasts. That’s ok, you can say “ew.”

Fig.2: Exhibit B—would Richard Gere allow himself to be photographed after having kicked his own ass by falling in the bathroom at 5 AM? I think not.

Point #2) “Without all the gray hair?” C’mon. Lady, i LOVE the gray hair i have and want MORE. I totally want to rock the Wayne Coyne streaks. I can do this.

Fig.3: ROWR.

I think i’ve figured out next year’s Halloween costume. I’d have to beard out (which, gross—i quote the greatest drummer of all time: “This is the Buddy Rich Band. Nice young men with faces. No more fucking beards”), but damn, imagine the tail. (Not to mention all the free drugs, which i could then turn around and sell since i don’t do them.)

As the unfortunate complimenter walked away, i semi-sheepishly looked at the other guys and asked if i had handled things properly. I feel the need to belabor this point—I FELT VERY BAD ABOUT MY LACK OF MANNERS. Fortunately, i had Dave Clay in the room, who has only heard the word “etiquette” in the context of a local commercially-oriented power-pop band.

Dave replied simply, “Dude, FUCK Richard Gere.”

I think my boys have backed me up, yo.