OK, I'm about to share with you all something that I haven't told anybody in 15 years. Something very private and personal. Something that shattered my world as a youth, and helped shape the dysfunctional angry bastard you know today.
I know of no way to prepare you for what I’m about to say so I’ll just say it.
In 1990 I was drugged and sexually assaulted by Dr William H Cosby Jr., or as you may know him, Bill Cosby.
I had a chance encounter with Mr. Cosby at a stand up concert he did. I was a huge fan of him ever since the Fat Albert cartoons. I also loved the Cosby show. Bill Cosby was indeed a hero of mine.
So one day when I was listening to the radio I heard that they were giving away free tickets to his show along with a backstage pass. I immediately picked up the phone and dialed rapidly, hanging up and dialing right back the first moment of hearing a busy signal.
Almost magically on my fifth try the phone started ringing. A voice on the other end congratulated me, informing me that I won the tickets. I squealed.
The night of the show was amazing. I have never heard a funnier stand-up comedian in my life. He was truly a genius.
After the show I was escorted backstage to Mr Cosby’s dressing room. As I walked in he had his back to me. As he turned around, there was almost like a glow of light surrounding him. Like he just came down from Heaven.
Anyways we started talking any he was telling jokes, and everyone in the room was having a great time. Suddenly he asked his entourage if he could be alone. As I was walking out and thanking him for a wonderful evening, he said to me “Not you Jon, you can stay. I just want us to be alone for a little bit.”
“OK Mr Cosby.” I said. Man, I sounded so stupid.
After the last person left, Bill, as he insisted I call him, took off his coat and made his way over to the record player.
“Are you a fan of Barry White, Jon?”
“Um, yeah sure, who isn’t?”
I lied, I never heard Barry White before. I just didn’t want to seem square in front of Mr Cosb…I mean Bill.
Bill started bobbing around to the music and then looked at me with those big eyes of his and said “Can I get you a drink or something?
“No thanks, I’m all set.”
“How about a Pudding Pop?”
“No, I’m OK, thanks.”
“Are you telling me you wouldn’t share a Pudding pop with Bill Cosby?”
“Well…since you put it that way…OK, count me in.”
He went to the fridge and returned to the sofa where I was sitting, Pudding Pop in hand.
He handed me a vanilla one. I asked him if I could have a chocolate one and he got all weird.
“Sorry, I only have vanilla.”
”No, you have chocolate too. I saw them in the freezer when you opened it.”
“Yes but…Jon. The vanilla ones are special, I want you to have a special pop.”
“Really, you want me to have a special pop? But why me?”
Putting his hand on my knee he whispered “because YOU’RE special.”
What a nice guy this was. He really likes kids, I had no idea.
As I was eating the Pudding Pop things started to get all weird. The room was moving and it seemed everything Bill was saying came out in slow motion.
I said I don’t feel too good and Bill just smiled, promising me he’d make me feel good.
The last thing I remember before slipping out was asking him if he’s going to have a Pudding Pop.
He said “Oh yeah. I sure am.”
Four hours later I woke up in the back alley of the theatre with my pants pulled down and two-hundred dollars bills shoved up my ass. I felt so used, like an empty bottle of Coke.
Because I blacked out I could never be sure what really happened to me. As far as I know maybe Bill just sat there and ate a Pudding Pop, I left unscathed, slipped and fell in the back alley, bumped my head on the concrete but not before pulling my pants down and shoving $200 up my ass.
But something tells me there was more to it than that. Call it a sixth sense.
And so when these two women came out and told their stories of very similar circumstances, I knew I had to do the right thing and tell my story.
If it saves just one of you from being the victim of Bill Cosby’s insatiable lust, I’ll know I’ve done my part.