Leguizamo - Pimps, Hos, Playa Hatas, and All the Rest of My Hollywood Friends

MY LIFE

T o all the actors, directors, writers, and producers, or anybody that was a part of trying to make some piece of art or some commercial crap disguised as something to say: heres to you. I respect you all because its never easyeven when its supposed to be, its not.

They say never write your autobiography till youre about to die or too old to work. Well, I never listened to good advice so why should I start now? I think of this book less as an autobiography and more of a way of keeping score with the people who have wronged me. No, that would be negativeits more of a personal inventory.

Oh, forget the half-lie. Its what happened as best as I can tell it without bitching or whining or gossiping, which is pretty hard for me to do. Ive taken out some good slander insurance and have gotten the name of a killer lawyer (not killer like in cool, but as in cold-blooded hit man). So Im kind of preparedbut probably not for the emotional fallout. Thats much harder to deal with.

Ive had to change some names because some people I know are very litigious and its just a good idea toOtherwise theyll feel like they own you or you owe them. Its just very messy. I should have written a fiction piece, but as I didnt, Ive had to modify identifying features, so instead of a flat nose, Ive said an aquiline nose, including physical descriptions and occupations of other individuals in order to preserve their anonymity. In some cases, composite characters have been created or timelines have been compressed in order to further preserve privacy and maintain narrative flow. The goal in all cases was to protect peoples privacy without damaging the integrity of my life story.

So why did I write this? Maybe because Im a recovering Catholic and I never really got the whole priest-confession thing right. Or maybe Im just masochisticthats just the artist in me, the one I try to empower over the commercial whore who mostly runs my inner and regular life.

F or me, theres always been a fine line between acting and acting out. Like this one afternoon me, English, Xerox, and Fucks Funny are riding the 7 train, the elevated subway that runs from Manhattan way the hell out into Queens. I see that the door to the conductors booth at the front of the car is open, and no ones inside. And I get this sudden idea for my first public performance. Call it guerrilla theater, except at the time I was a clueless youth and thought guerrilla theater was a show they put on in the monkey house at the Bronx Zoo.

I was fourteen. Thats thirty in ghetto years, so you might say I was a late bloomer, but Id had other things on my mind before then. Like girls. And dodging my old mans fists. And girls. And dodging my old mans fists. And girls.

English, Xerox, and Fucks Funny were my homies, my half-assed gang. We called ourselves the Sexaholix. We hadnt had any sex yet, except the kind you have by yourself in the bathroom with the door locked, but we already knew we were addicts. Fucks Funnys nickname was a takeoff on Bugs Bunny; we called him that because he had big rabbit ears and a bent dick. Xerox said everything twice, everything twice. He repeated everything everyone else said, too. English was a second language for English, like it was for the rest of us, and he still didnt really have the hang of it yet. Past tense always screwed him up.

Yo man, I haded a quarter but I losteded it, hed say.

And Xerox would say, He losteded it. Losteded it. Word.

So were heading home on the 7. The 7 train is like an artery pumping little brown, black, and yellow people into the city every morning, where they do all the work the white people dont want to do, and then squirting them back out to the vast urban sprawl of Queens at night, so the white people dont have to eat and sleep with them. Queens is the modern-day Ellis Island, where all the immigrants from all over the world are dumped when they come to this country. There are more ethnicities and nationalities crowded together in Queens than anywhere else on the planet, and theres always some new ethnic group piling on. Like lately they call the 7 the Mariachi Line, because its full of Mexicans. Before that it was the Curry in a Hurry, because of all the Pakistanis and Indians riding back and forth to Jamaica, the New New Delhi. And before that it was the Whiskey Train, because of all the Irish people from Sunnyside.

I see that empty conductors booth and get this idea. English, who was kind of an Eeyore, always worrying, sees me heading for the booth and moans, Yo yo, man, whatchoo doon? You gonna get us busteded.

Word, Xerox nods. Busteded.

But I didnt let them stop me. I was born to be on stage, baby. Even if the stage was a rickety subway car and my audience was sleepy janitors and maids.

In the booth I find the conductors microphone. This is it. My moment to shine. Youll be great, youll be swell. All the clichs. I switch on the mic. Showtime.

And because Im fourteen and dont know shit about theater, I just do all my impressions of cartoon characters from TV.

First, Foghorn Leghorn bursts out of the speakers in all the cars on the train. BOY I SAY BOY CMERE A MINUTE SON I WANNA TALK TO YA.

Then I do Snaggle Puss. EXIT, STAGE LEFT.

Then Popeye. ACK ACK ACK, TOUCH ME LOVE MUSKLE.

Oh Ive got them now. Those maids and janitors are rolling in the aisles of every car. (Actually, theyre just looking confused. Most of them dont speak English.)

HEY THERE BOO BOO. IM SMARTER THAN THE AV-ER-AGE BEAR.

Then I leave them with a song, like a little brown version of a Borscht Belt comedian. A Cuchifrito Belt comedian.

AAAAAAHM BRING-IN HOME A BAY-BEE BUM-BLE BEE

And for my finale, a transit cop grabs me by the nape of the neck and drags me out of the booth.

Busteded.

My first bad review.

I only spent a couple of hours behind bars, but that was enough. There were some scary, degenerate guys in there, and I was young, Latin, and friendly. I could see myself losing my virginity in a couple of ways I didnt want to lose it. I was saving myself for marriage.