Former 'Charles in Charge' PA
OK. Before you judge me, you have to understand: the ’80s were a wild time.
And I was a different person.
And Scott Baio was the top dreamboat on TV.
And even though I’ve tried for years to justify his eccentricities and convince myself he was a normal guy, his most recent dives off the deep end is too much. Now that he has made public his support of Trump, I have been forced to look back and to realize that I should have known he was a goober when I first met him and we had sex.
The signs were all there (and the sex wasn’t good). Sure, now a Tweet like this from Scott Baio is not a surprise:
But back then in the ’80s? Who would have suspected he was so full of misogynistic anger?
The news that Scott Baio is going to speak at the RNC has dredged up a lot of old memories I have of the night we spent together on the abandoned set of Charles in Charge after the season 1 wrap party. He wanted to have sex on Douglas’ bed.
That should have been the first clue that Baio was kind of…off (And the sex wasn’t good, fwiw). But there were other clues too.
I actually heard him before I saw him. He was screaming the word ‘cunt’ from his dressing room. I was just a dusty haired, wide-eyed bumpkin right off the bus from Ohio that landed a primo gig PAing for Charles in Charge. I hardly even registered the words over the charming timbre of his voice.
My season on the set of Charles In Charge was like a blur. Seemingly all day every day I was fetching coffees, rolling up and unrolling extension chords, and buying men’s hair combs. This was sitcom culture in the mid-’80s, after all. I actually didn’t meet Baio one on one until my last day on set. (When we ended up having bad sex because he spent all of it playing with his own balls).
At the wrap party, we were both reaching for the same cup of punch, our hands touched, and the electricity set my hormones to jumping and his mop top from feathered to frizzed. We locked eyes. The passion was immediate and overwhelming. Until one of his female castmates walked by and accidentally bumped into him and he immediately called her a cunt. I remember thinking that was a little harsh but he quickly switched back to smiling at me all coy and I melted into those dark eyeballs of his (Later, when we were having sex, he would smile the same way as he selfishly played with his own balls the whole time).
After staring speechless at each other and sipping punch, we said not a word as he looked me up and down. His first words to me were simple and–at the time, I thought—normal: “You a dude or a cunt?“
Looking back, the fact that he referred to women as "cunts” four times in the first hour I met him should have been a warning sign that he was not the best guy to get involved with (And, of course later, his maniacal obsession with his own balls thing was a another reason not to be involved with him).
Anyway, as the party started to peter out, the rest of the cast and crew peeled away from Scott Baio and I sitting on a couch and talking about anything BUT women, or to put it in his words “Anything BUT women who are cunts most of the time, right?”
After a few hours of trying not to answer that question directly, it became clear that we were alone on the set and had the whole place to ourselves. He took my hand and led me back to Douglas’ bedroom.
Little did I know, 30 years later, he’d be calling a presidential nominee a cunt on twitter and then be a featured speaker at the Republican National Convention.
From there, we had sex (As I said before, the sex was not good. He mainly just jiggled his own balls for 45 seconds and then told me to leave. I counted it as sex at the time though. Ah, to be young!)