Recently I had the opportunity to see Equus, Harry Potter’s theatrical hit, on Broadway. The show has been a huge success in London, where young girls literally fight each other for the chance to get a glimpse of their teen crush in person. Arriving at the theater, my heart palpitated with anticipation of what was to come. I was sure to see some sort of homoerotic story about Harry Potter and horses, reminiscent of the all those hot Dumbledore on Potter scenes from the fan fiction that I wrote cuddled up under the sheets on so many long and lonely nights.
My seat was towards the back of the orchestra section. Some poor suckers that bought their tickets that day were standing behind me, where I knew they would be unable to adequately glimpse Daniel Radcliffe’s member. As the lights when down I prepared myself to behold Harry as only that guy that plays the new Dumbledore, and Emma Watson, and thousands of people in New York and London had before; completely fucking naked.
Harry gets nakey after the jump
From the beginning it was clear that Peter Shaffer’s play, written in 1973, is nothing but a cheap excuse to get Daniel Radcliffe naked on stage. Richard Griffiths, known for playing Harry Potter’s mean uncle in the movies, went through the motions just like a cheap porn actress who “doesn’t know” that the pizza man’s dick is going to be coming through a hole in the sausage pizza he is delivering her.
The first act set down the groundwork for Harry to get down and dirty with some horses. A young boy who blinded six horses at a stable he worked in is being treated by a psychiatrist at a children’s hospital. I could all but see “the boy who lived” making sweet love with a horse in the style of Catherine the Great on the stage in front of me. The act ends with a shirtless Radcliffe mounted on some poor aspiring Broadway actor with a metal horse head on, wearing pumps in the style of hoofs. I knew that I was edging closer and closer to my goal.
I waited in a line that reached all the way back to the Bronx to piss during the intermission, and then returned to my seat, ready to learn exactly what was so special about this young wizard that prevented Voldemort from killing him as a baby child. The sexual tension in the theater was greater than in my living room when J Lo showed up to the Grammy’s in that green dress when I was in the 5th grade. Finally, Griffith’s character, in an act not uncommon to child psychiatry, slipped Radcliffe a roofie and convinced him to reenact the events that night in the stable.
Dumbledore’s young protégé then retold the account of his encounter with a young stable girl in the barn one night. My heart stopped. Radcliffe was going to fuck a girl, a human girl, and not a horse? I wasn’t given time to think about this before Potter’s pants dropped to the floor and I was given a full view of Harry’s magic wand in all its glory.
He had prepared for our encounter by completely shaving his nether regions, allowing me the best possible view of everything he had to offer. At first I was taken aback, “Really?” I thought to myself, “That’s all?” I was admittedly impressed with his philosopher’s stones, which were massive compared to his magic stick. But then I came to this very important realization, Harry’s wand wasn’t the best, or most expensive, or thickest wand in the wizarding world, but he could make it do things that no other wizard could. Also, I was reminded by a friend that some men “are growers, not show-ers.”
The play concludes as a naked Radcliffe jumps around the stage, simulating the act of blinding six horses. When this finished, a re-clothed Radcliffe appeared on stage for his bows which he earned more for showing me what self-confidence is than for his acting, which was as atrocious as usual. Griffiths was the only member of the cast who actually earned the standing ovation that was given.
Afterwards I purchased a “My Wand is Longer than Harry’s” t-shirt from the vendor. The man in line behind me purchased the “Harry’s is Bigger” shirt, and I laughed heartily at him. Outside the theater, a huge crowd had gathered around the stage door, awaiting the emergence of the boy wizard, probably to jeer at him for the size of his member. I pushed past and walked to the subway, trying to discover what it is that I should take from this experience.
Firstly, I think we all can learn something from Radcliffe, namely, if you’re a child star with little talent, nothing will help your career more than a play where you get naked to prove that you’re a “real” actor. Secondly, confidence shouldn’t come from downstairs, but instead it should come from the knowledge that though your dick is small, hundreds of people a night are paying more than $100 each to get a look at it. Thirdly, and most importantly, shaving makes your balls look bigger.