Thank god there is no script for phone sex, ‘cuz memorizing is HARD.

The play has four seven-minute calls in it, interrupting the title character during an interview with a camera crew. The calls are composites, drawn from archetypes and standard openings and approaches that I’ve gotten pretty familiar with over the past 10 months. The audience hears the phone whore’s side of the calls only, so in theory I could say whatever I want and not be off. But my director likes the flow and the tone of the calls the way I wrote them, with all the pauses and plot points and imagery, and asked that I get as close to the script as possible. What has been challenging for me as a performer is getting as close to the feel of phone sex as possible, without actual input from the other side.

In my head I’m holding on to what I imagine the caller would be saying, to remember when I need to make those abrupt shifts from one track to another. That helps with the lines. But I have to dig deep to reproduce the “surprise” and the “excitement” that the caller would hear, when I already know what’s coming around the corner.

In a real call, I hesitate as a negotiating strategy for getting through the really sensitive stuff. I use non-vocal sounds, reflective responses, and very casual speech to play my part in the two-person improv piece that unfolds. Performative linguists would have a field day analyzing this shit. Scriptwriters, on the other hand, would go bonkers. I mean, I did.

And now I’m trying to put it out there in a way that keeps it fresh for audiences, but reproducibly authentic for myself. Mad props to my director for keeping me on that path. (Yes, Elizabeth, I’m getting back to my lines right now!) And mad props to my callers for staying so insanely unpredictable, so genuinely dedicated to their own turn-ons, that I can’t use a script in my daily work. In real life, I usually have no idea where we’re going. It’s an adventure. Thanks, guys.

SPECIAL TALKBACK SESSION: come join Cameryn and Phone Whore director Lisa Dupre at 9:30 pm for discussion and feedback about this exciting new play!
Start Time: 18:45
Date: 2010-02-12
End Time: 19:45

So what chaps my fat, queer ass when I talk in public about doing phone sex is not what people may think about me. It’s what they think about my clients.

“So what’s the weirdest call you’ve ever done?”

“It must be hard talking to losers all day.”

“So all those freaks, huh? Scary!”

This is part of my inheritance, as a visible, activist-type sex worker in a society in which sex is simultaneously revealed and reviled. I get to publicly defend the honor of my clients, and by extension the clients of any phone sex worker ever, because most callers sure as shit won’t do it for themselves. And by go-go-Gadget super extension, I’m defending the sexual freedom and honor of my audiences as well.

They need it. Don’t you see? It’s a statistical certainty that in any co-ed or male-dominated crowd that I am speaking to, at least one or two of the guys have called phone-sex lines, and probably enjoyed it. It’s even more certain that in almost any mainstream bar or club crowd, a MAJORITY of the people listening, of all genders, have fantasies that they have never told anyone about, like the calls that I mention in my routines. So when they demonstrate their diss, and start making comments or assumptions about how freakish and loser-y my callers must be, my hackles rise. I  want to hug them and slap them at the same time. Denial is not just a river in Egypt. Projection is not just making sure people can hear your voice.

You get me? Because my clients are definitely part of the privileged mainstream: they have valid credit cards, and regular jobs, and normal-sounding voices–at least until they start calling me Mommy or Mistress. They at least know where to go to get their sexual ya-yas out. My regulars have a discerning ear, they like what I offer. They talk about their turn-ons, or at least say “Oh, YEAH!” when I hit their buttons. They are fuckin’ horndogs, some of them. They are shy. They feel guilty, or they feel great. Their fantasies are “crazy”,  or  vanilla, or some neopolitan mix depending on the day.

In short, they are you, dear Mainstream Audience.

So when I answer your questions with some side-stepping comment, not the wild voyeuristic freakshow response that you want; when I don’t give you a joke that ends with a punchline like, “… and then his mother walked in and asked him what he wanted on his sandwich”; when I look out at you from the stage and talk about my clients without ridicule or malice… I’m doing it that way out of respect for them and their sexual freedom. And, though you may not know it or want to claim the gift, I’m doing it for you, too.

You’re welcome.

We can be seen on the first Wednesday of every month of at Improv Boston at 10 PM. Admission is $10

This Wednesday will be headlined by Chris Flemming, and I’m going to be making my comedy–and naked performance–debut!
Start Time: 22:00
Date: 2009-10-07

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Why naked? Partly because I want to start making a name for Cameryn, in a town and performing community that knows me almost entirely by another name. And partly I want to get used to taking enormous risks on stage.

Why comedy? Because my life has only gotten weirder ever since I started doing phone sex, and this seems like one more way of really finding and articulating that weird.

If you’re in the Boston area, come out and say hi!