Richard Knight Jr.

Back in the early nineties when I was performing my "Show Biz Kids from Hell" comedy cabaret act I wasn't stalked but my character, Dick O'Day, was. I think it's the only time I've ever heard of that happening. My partner in the duo, Becca Kaufman, and I were doing our regular weekly show at the Gentry. As Dick "my bizness is show" O'Day I wear two pairs of glasses, this horrible, loud yellow jacket and am generally an obnoxious (but hopefully funny) know-it-all. Becca is a terrific singer. Together we refer to ourselves as the "trailer park of cabaret." Dick O'Day is the LAST person you'd ever want to stalk.

At any rate, we are in the midst of our act, having a great time with a packed house. We finish the evening and are packing up when we notice that this guy who has been quietly sitting in the audience all night is still there. He's nursing a drink and then stands up and comes up to me and starts talking. This is after I've removed the jacket, taken off the glasses, etc. In other words, Dick O'Day has left the building. But for some reason this guy doesn't get that and he starts to talk to me: "Mr. O'Day, how did you ever get to be so confident? How did you get to be so funny?" He's looking for life lessons at 1am.

I can see he is sort of out of it so I gently answer his questions and start to edge toward the door, signaling Becca. But he's not taking the hint and is getting more and more insistent, "Dick, I think you might have the answers I'm looking for," he says next. Okay, now I know something's wrong. Dick O'Day is the world's largest egotist and has answers for only himself. I try to reason with the guy and finally flat out say, "You know, Dick O'Day is a character, he's not real" but the guy's not buying it. The staff sees the trouble and then slowly but steadily herds this guy out the door. All the while he's saying, "Dick has the answers I'm looking for, I must talk to you!"

"That was weird," we all agree and about twenty minutes later head for my car. We get in and head toward Lake Shore Drive heading north from the old Gentry on Rush. "Oh my God!" Becca suddenly says, "Look!" It's the guy. He's in his car, driving right next to me and frantically signaling. We speed up. So does the guy. We switch lanes. So does the guy. Now we're getting nervous and then he starts to try to edge my car off the road. Now I'm pissed and scared. We decide to exit at Belmont and head for the Addison police precinct. He follows, honking and flashing his lights the whole time. Once he sees me pull up to the police station, however, he pulls away and disappears.

Late the next afternoon there's a frantic phone call from Becca. "He's found my number and he's calling every five minutes asking to speak to Dick O'Day. He keeps saying that he has to talk to you because you have the answers he's looking for. I told him Dick O'Day was a character but he didn't believe me." "Don't answer the phone and I'll come get you," I suggest and now Becca's freaked out because the stalker's got her number. We're scheduled for another show that night and decide to head to the Gentry early to alert the staff.

Once there, we find out they've been getting calls all day, too. This guy really, really wanted some answers from the fictional Dick O'Day. Now we're nervous as hell but also mad as hell. We get ready for the show. Five minutes in, the guy walks in and plops down right in the front. "Dick, I need to speak with you on the break," the guy says. "What you need to do is get the hell out of here very quickly because we've called the cops and they're going to throw your ass in jail for trying to sideswipe my car last night, you stalking freak," I retort in my toughest Dick O'Day manner. The audience is stunned; they realize I'm not kidding. The guy goes white--stalking is one thing, police intervention another. At that point the Gentry staff escorts him out with instructions never to return. Fourteen years later we're still doing the act and we have yet to see the guy. Hopefully he found the answers he was looking for.

In a bizarre way, I've always thought that this was the highest compliment I've ever received as a performer.

(2005-07-26)

Also by Richard Knight Jr.

GHOST STORY
"Want to spend the night in a haunted house?" Everyone said yes, oh yes, oh please, please, please. The three ghost hunters and myself had been approved; I figured I could get by with one more guest—an objective bystander, as it were.
(2001-10-25)

SINNER AND SAINT
I might as well tell you right now that Mike—or "Mikey" as everyone else called him—is dead. Finished, kaput, not of this world but still calling out from the next. The day of his death I cried a little bit and then picked up the phone to call the next friend on the list—a vocal chain letter of death. And so on and so on and so on.
(2001-06-21)

IN CHAIRS
The clinic is between a jewelry store and a furniture stripping business. In the morning, its small parking lot is packed with picketers; they carry placards and block the driveway. Normally one has to drive slowly through the crowd to get to the front doors, and a nurse waits there to escort patients inside. Today there are no picketers in sight, and there is no nurse at the door.
(2000-08-03)

SEX WRAP
Has S&M lost its kick?
(2000-05-11)

The naked city
(2000-02-24)

The naked city
(2000-02-24)

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