So here is my best Thunder's story…… (reprinted)
It all happened on a freezing Christmas night. I was 14. My sister and her boyfriend Kenny had agreed to take me to see Johnny Thunders at the Peppermint Lounge on 45th street, where my grandmother had danced years ago. We left the family dinner at 9 and drove downtown in the La Mans. I wore fishnet stockings, a black mini skirt, black pointy pumps and my leather motorcycle jacket, lots of eyeliner, very much the London style. Inside I was dancing to Gary Glitter’s Rock and Roll Part I. Kenny went and got us beers. I sat down on a wooden platform near the stage to drink and save a spot to see the show. And then I saw him, X (can’t say his name, as it is too good a name to change and I do try to protect the guilty in these stories)!!!!! It was like a dream come true. The cute guy that I liked was out at a club with me!
I knew X because he worked at crazy Eddie’s on 8th street and Sixth Avenue where, coincidentally, I had bought the Johnny Thunders and the Heartbreakers record, LAMF. X came up to me and started talking about the record. He told me his name and I told him mine. He had cool spiky black hair worn just like Sid Vicious and pale blue eyes and milky white skin. He was almost transparent, luminous and beautiful. X had a slight eastern European accent mixed in with his Brooklyn accent, and it was so hot. I had never met anyone who looked like him or talked like him. I couldn’t believe he had approached me. I went home with a huge crush and couldn’t wait to get some money so I could go back and buy another record and see him again. And there he was at the Thunder’s show. it was mindblowing, like something right out of a movie, too perfect.
X came over and sat with me and that cemented the deal. We were an item, in my mind, for the moment at least. We were talking for a while and soon we were kissing, which happened effortlessly in a dark corner of a dark club with a beer, and had been so impossible to achieve in the sunlight on the sidewalk outside and electronics store, even if it was in the village. X tasted like cigarettes and alcohol. It got later and later and Johnny hadn’t taken the stage yet. X moved his hand higher and higher up my leg.
X had come to the club with a friend, who sat next to us the whole time. My sister and Kenny were also on the platform with us. It started to sound like the band might be coming on soon so we took a break from kissing so that X could get us beers. That’s when his friend, whose name I didn’t know, moved in on me. “Lets go back stage” he said and he grabbed my hand and we went through the door that led to the dressing rooms. I had never been backstage before. It was very exciting to see all these mysterious adults getting ready for a gig. We went past a bathroom where I could see two pairs of feet facing each other in the same stall. It was two men because the feet were big, one guy wore high top sneakers, the other had on tight black leather pants. We snuck around, holding hands, and peeking in rooms. It was hard to process everything I was seeing because it was so new and amazing and my adrenaline was soaring. Who are there cool looking people? I didn’t know but I wanted to hang out with them. X’s friend put his arms around me and started to kiss me. Given the excitement of the moment, this seemed appropriate and perfect. I didn't know his name and I have no memory of what he looked like.
Suddenly we were pushed against the wall as a line of guys walked by, some of them were holding guitars. Roadies and the band passed by and then a man not much bigger than my 5 foot-nothing petite frame stumbled by. Our faces were inches away from each other. It was Johnny Thunders. I had never been close to someone so cool and it was amazing to see this person, who made music that I loved, walk by me, inches away, in the privacy of backstage, and then into the spotlight. I heard the crowd get loud as Johnny came on stage and me and the guy went back to our spot to watch the show. X was not having me and I wasn’t thrilled about that. I didn’t want to think I had done anything so terrible, as it was so innocent and excusable to me. We drove back home that freezing night in the La Mans and I held a special feeling, like a pearl in my hand. I was getting closer to my destiny, to the exciting life that I wanted to live, getting a little freer from my dreary upper Manhattan life.