Rocky Horror diehards -- freaky people dressed in tutus, devil horns, leather, and chains -- filled Respectable Street on Friday night.
Before the show, DJ Danxiety spun tunes by the Clash, Iggy Pop and the Stooges, and Ziggy Stardust-era Bowie, and the room was filled with smoke and sexual tension. That's probably why the crowd gave the show's host a resounding "F--K YOU!" when he called the Virgins to the stage.
And the Virgins were sufficiently humiliated. We were treated to dude-on-dude kissing, chick-on-chick kissing, and finally an auctioning of virgins back to their respective corners of the bar.
Crystal Cappettini took the stage as Frank, giving the role just the right amount of femininity.
I pulled aside her twin sister, Coral, who was also participating in the show, as a partygoer. "We rehearse once a week," she said, "but I've been going to Rocky Horror shows in Broward and Palm Beach since 1994. I went pretty much every week for three years straight. I've seen it probably between 300 to 500 times."
Dressed in a Rancid T-shirt and jeans, Jonathan Cuevas told me: "Had no idea what to expect. I didn't really know the movie; I just came with some friends of mine."
A couple of hundred rowdy people began a loud chorus of "Slut! Asshole!", with people getting competitively louder and raunchier as the movie went on. Rice was thrown, squirt guns showered the masses, and watermelon-flavored "Frank N Furter" shots lubricated the already off-key singing voices.
The crowd: A guy wearing a Meatloaf T-shirt, an awkward-looking guy who sat on one wall of Respectables with his nose buried in a book, and four Columbias, two Magentas, two Dr. Scotts, and five chicks wearing feather boas.
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