Ron Jeremy is a porn legend. Even that people that have never watched a porn in their lives know who he is. I remember one day when we were done with a shoot for my pal Al Borda we all went to Denny’s to enjoy a post porn production meal. First one patron walked slowly by, trying to control the double take and look without looking.

Then another. And another… then in pairs.

Then people started not even bothering to try and appear nonchalant or unaware. In fact, they started coming right up to the table and talking to Ron as if they knew him and began asking for autographs. In fact, even the waitresses came up and asked for autographs, not only for themselves, but also for their co-workers back in the kitchen that couldn’t  come out.

That is when I knew beyond  the shadow of my pale white dick that Ron Jeremy is a boner-fide celebrity. And for what? Sure, he had a reputation for being “that guy in porn” with the mustache and the pot belly and the big head of kinky hair. The guy who seemed more likely to be one of the line chef in the Denny’s kitchen with the big grease smeared apron and the spatula flipping eggs for the morning rush.

Ron had an undeniable charisma in spite of the fact that he possesses a notorious reputation for being something of a slob. Lots of rumors swirled around about Ron; that he is insanely cheap and lived on the couch of a friend rather than keep rent on his own place; that he did that despite having tucked away millions from the fruits of his loin labors; that he is actually genius level intelligence but does porn just because he loves to fuck; and that he didn’t like taking baths which is why he supposedly smelled so nasty.

We were living in a loft downtown in Los Angeles. We had rented our space to a few pro and amateur porn outfits and if you were willing to have to sometimes pick up a used condom now and again and didn’t mind hiding your phone for a few hours, the money was easy. So, our neighbors, Spark and Ing wanted in on the action.

Money was tight for the artist designer Spark. He was an incredible artist but typically difficult to work with and Ing’s cosmetics job was not bringing in enough to cover the expenses either so renting the space out for a shoot seemed like a great idea. I had to warn them though. “Are you cool with people trying to use your phone to call their relatives back east?” “Do you mind having to clean up after the caterers turn your kithen upside down?” “Is it ok if your furniture gets moved around and not put back how you had it?”

Ing said she was fine with everything, but that was sort of surprising since she had been raised in an intensely conservative and deeply religious family and would blush looking at a bra ad advertising more support. Moreover, she had never even seen porn. Then I mentioned Ron. “Have you ever heard of Ron Jeremy?” Ing looked a bit terrified. “He will be there?” She asked. “Isn’t he  really dirty?”

I guess easy money always has hard considerations to make. “He isn’t bad, that is just part of his image – they call him the hedgehog. He is just a hairy guy but he is nice and polite and you will probably like him.”

Ing spent a few days thinking about it. During this time she went back and forth about yes or no or yes or maybe but finally I had to say, “The production company has to make a decision so yay or nay?”

Ing said yes, but under certain strict conditions.  Their place had to be left clean. Ok. She wanted to also make money doing the make up. Ok. And if she had any issues with Ron then the plug would be pulled. Ok.

“We have never had a problem at our place.” I told her.

(to be continued)

Stephanie Swift was not returning the calls. I gave up. We would have to find someone else to sign at our booth in Las Vegas at the AVN show. Worse, I know I sounded like a frigging didn’t know  he’d been dumped yet high school boyfriend that hadn’t taken the hint yet when I left the messages basically pleading with her to return my calls on the promise, made weak with such hesitation and uncertainty, that it would hopefully, maybe, possibly be worth her while. Time was running out. We would just have to try and find someone else that would stand there and look hot and keep a smile through grueling hours of slobbering guys paying her greasy compliments all day long. In addition, I had other concerns to deal with because our genius graffiti artist hired to spray our booth had not come in yet to discuss the artwork and he was becoming just as hard to get a call back from. I am not sure if that is a compliment to porn stars or a critique of artists but either way I was going nuts and was ready to throw the artist into an anal gang bang scene or spray the flaky porn girls with a can of rust-O-leum.

Finally the artist came by the office to discuss the booth. I told him we wanted it to tell a story about the evolution of Homegrown Video, how we started as a purely amateur porn company but blossomed into something completely unique and how far we were looking into the future as we grew and matured as an adult entertainment company. He nodded but when he nodded he seemed close to nodding out since I think he had worked perhaps one too many late nights with a can of paint spraying out mind altering vapors of toluene without the protection of a gas mask. This may have had some benefit to  the creative side of the process but nailing down some sort of  business arrangement was becoming increasingly complex; I might as well have been dropping acid and trying to take the police entrance exam.

I couldn’t be sure that he actually understood that we needed the work done by a specific deadline in order to send the booth to Vegas in order to be set up in time. I couldn’t even tell if he had actually started work on it. He asked if I could provide some reference material to help inspire the female figures that he wanted to paint. Well, in an amateur porn company that certainly was not  going to be a problem. Why it took so long to get to that point, dude wants a porn handout, fine, not like I haven’t  heard that before, was a bit beyond me. I wasn’t about to sniff paint to figure it out though; I went to the rack full of all the porn mags that we had and grabbed a few for him to review. He showed me some pictures that he wanted to use and I said no problem, good luck, ok I will advance just a bit  more of the cash that was not due until completion, please, please, please  get this  done in time and sent him on his way. He tore out the images carefully and went on his ethereal, dopey way.

A few days later, the magazine was still on my desk.  I opened it up to see if we had any of our movies reviewed. Nothing. But there was something that certainly got my attention faster than a porn star faking her first orgasm. I turned the page and there was Stephanie Swift. Not only was she very clearly and prominently featured absolutely blatantly in a porn rag, but also she was engaged in an act that truly represents the very pinnacle of porn sluttiness. There was sweet and shy Stephanie Swift, who didn’t  want her boyfriend to know that she did anal or other guys and didn’t want her boyfriend’s parents to know that she did an amateur porn for Homegrown Video, pure and natural amateur Stephanie Swift in a gang bang video. Anal, oral, vaginal, the triple penetration crown of dirty nasty whorishness, massive multiple loads of spunk plastered on her face from a bunch of meat heads and mooks, even a line of guys bending over for her to lick each and every one of their assholes, including the hairiest and nastiest puckered sphincter of the king of smut himself Mr. Ron Jeremy, Stephanie was doing it all and with a sly smile on her face. Maybe she was just happy that she had a multi-video contract. Maybe she knew that once people saw her licking Ron Jeremy’s sweaty stank of pubic twirled and curled anus they would know that she was capable of going where not porn star had gone before.