Once upon a time, I was a teenager. And when I was a teenager, "The Rocky Horror Picture Show" was all the rage. We'd never seen anything like it (kind of like "Mama Mia" for today's crowd). It was all about audience participation.
We dressed up in weird fishnet costumes; we brought lighters to the theater; we threw toast. And we sang along with sweet transvestites, monsters in gold lame' panties, and weirdos wearing tuxes. We stayed out past 10 o'clock.
Our parents didn't quite know what to make of it all.
These days, I'm a not-so-hip forty-something, but I still start my days at work singing, "...dammit, Janet - I love you!!!"
Because of this:
In my life, I have known three people named "Brad".
The first one was nicknamed "Brat" and was the little brother of my friend Kelly. He was a pest.
The second one was the character in the movie, prancing around in his underwear and geek glasses, played by Barry Bostwick.
And the third was a very sweet, quiet young man who worked in Master Control at the TV station. He was going to college to get his degree, had long hair down to his butt, and smelled like Ivory soap. One morning, I came into work and Brad's hair was gone. I knew then that he'd graduated and was looking for a "real" job. A couple of weeks later, Brad handed in his resignation. I missed Brad. He was a good worker and a nice person.
Unbeknownst to me, Brad left something behind. One day, Darling Man walked into my office carrying this cup that said "Brad". Where did you get that? I asked. He found it in the back of a cabinet when he was clearing out tapes.
Since Darling Man has a plethora of coffee cups on his desk, I appropriated Brad and have my coffee with Brad every morning.