�Okay, here�s the deal. Howard doesn�t exactly know you�re coming, but somehow you have to make your way into the studio and give him these poker chips and panties.�
The three of us interns stared blankly back at our editor, James. Before we could respond with any sort of protest, he pushed us out the door of the Midtown Manhattan office building into the unforgiving November cold.
�There�s the limo! It�ll take you to the K-Rock studios. Here�s my business card if you run into any problems getting in. You don�t have to take your shirt off, or do anything you don�t want to do!� James yelled, adding as an afterthought, �Good luck!�
Shauna, Tara and I sat grimly in the back of the limo. It seemed a little too early in the morning to be hatching schemes to get onto the Howard Stern morning radio show, especially as an intern assignment we weren�t getting paid for. It was one thing to photocopy papers, file documents, and pick up strawberry cheesecake flavored sexual body lotion at the local sex shop as errands for MAXIM. It was quite another to force your way onto a radio show.
Besides the serious bags under our eyes, we all sported matching �MAXIM� tees, representing the magazine targeting men whose main interests of �Beer, Sex, Sports, and Gadgets� are emblazoned on the cover, along with a half-naked girl du jour.
�I didn�t take the 4:32AM train into the city so I could maybe get on Howard Stern,� I pouted, uncomfortably shifting the large box containing personalized MAXIM poker chips and Star Trek star Jolene Blalock�s signed thong underwear.
When James approached us the day before, asking if we�d like to make an appearance on Howard Stern, we all brightly answered, �yes!� The thought never crossed our minds we�d have to play James Bond. On top of that, we hadn�t given much thought to who Howard Stern was. Besides his crude fart humor and penis jokes, Howard was notorious for staging outlandish stunts.
�Oh my God, he�s gonna make us take our clothes off,� said Tara, her brown eyes wide with fear.
�Probably,� I said, feeding her fear. �I hope you wore clean underwear.�
The limo stopped at 40 West 57th Street, and we entered the building warily. Shauna now carried the cumbersome box, our golden key to getting onto the Howard Stern Show. A grumpy-looking guard sat behind a large reception desk in the busy lobby. We nudged each other as we slowly approached him, talking out of the sides of our mouths.
�You say something!�
�No, you!�
I held James� business card, and stepped forward. Offering my most demure smile, I put on what I thought was a professional tone.
�Good morning. We�re from MAXIM magazine, and we have a gift for Howard. Here�s our editor�s card.�
The guard looked down at the card, holding it between his square, stubby fingers. He looked back up us, clearly unimpressed.
�Whatdya got in dat box?� he grumbled, squinting his eyes and jerking his head in its direction. �We can�t just have random people going up dere giving Howard presents.�
�Oh, this!� Shauna piped in. �It�s personalized poker chips from MAXIM, plus signed panties.�
�We know he likes poker and underwear,� I dutifully interjected.
�Hmmm,� he gruffly replied.
We held our breath as the guard made a phone call to the studio we perceived as the Holy Grail. Shauna, Tara and I strained our ears to listen to the conversation.
�All right,� he said finally. �They�ll see if they can fit you on. You�re from MAXIM magazine? Probably see a lotta hot chicks there.� We shrugged our shoulders and nodded in agreement, still stunned by the fact we had so easily won a ticket to entrance. �Still, I gotta see what�s in dat box. We don�t need no bombs or anything up dere.�
After carefully inspecting the poker chips and fondling the thong, the guard allowed us to pass and take the elevator. We again explained our deal to another guard behind another desk in the studios, and were ushered into the Green Room. A producer with headphones entered, clipboard in hand.
�Hey girls. You�re MAXIM interns?�
We nodded in excitement.
�And you�ve got a gift for Howard? Some autographed panties from Jolene Blalock?�
Group nod.
�Poker chips, too,� Shauna added.
�Lemme see those panties,� he said, digging into the box. �Okay, looks good,� he said, after examining the underwear. �Just wait in here.�
The producer exited, and we were left in the Green Room. Framed photos of various Howard guests decorated the walls. Radio personality KC traipsing down a city street in nothing but lingerie. Pamela Anderson playfully posing with Howard. Strippers. Porn stars. Hank the �Angry Dwarf,� another Stern personality, in a pink rabbit costume, eyes lolled back in his head in drunken stupor.
Gary, another Stern crewmember I recognized from the televised show on E! Channel, bustled into the room. He had dark circles under his eyes, a grubby polo shirt, and headphones on his head. A man carrying a large video camera with a binding light followed him, pointing it in our direction. We raised our hands to shield our eyes, recoiling like vampires from the searing sun.
�Hey, is Hank the Angry Dwarf here today?� I asked from behind my hands.
Gary frowned and scratched his head. �Hank died a little while ago.�
Nothing like looking like an asshole on TV, I thought.
�I am so sorry,� I offered, my cheeks burning from embarrassment.
�Yeah. Anyway. Put these on,� he said, handing each of us headphones connected to a waist set. �You can listen to the show while you wait. We�ll probably put you on within the hour. Now tell the camera what you�re here for.�
We froze like deer in headlights with the camera recording. I finally managed to speak.
�We. . .we�re here to give Howard a gift?�
�Great,� Gary returned quickly. �Now tell what it is.�
�Personalized MAXIM poker chips and panties.�
�Great.�
The camera�s intimidating light shut off abruptly, and the two left just as fast as they came.
Tara breathed a sigh of relief. �I just want to get this over with!� she exclaimed.
We waited, listening to our headphones for entertainment. Howard was speaking with professional arm wrestler John Brzenk. Apparently, it escalated to a big joke � every time Howard would say the man�s last name, it would be accompanied by a manufactured farting sound. �John Brzenk (simultaneous fart)!�
The door to the Green Room was opened, and each time someone would pass, we craned our necks to see who it was. An old man in a suit hobbled carefully down the hallway, pausing briefly to look in. He raised his hand politely in acknowledgement.
�Morning, girls,� he said cheerfully, then continued on.
Shauna and Tara looked at each other in disbelief.
�That was a nice guy,� I said distractedly, still laughing to myself about the farting noises.
�That guy. . .do you have any idea who that was?� Shauna demanded. �That was Ed McMahon!�
�Ed McMahon!� I exclaimed. �Publisher�s Clearing House Ed McMahon?�
�Star Search and Johnny Carson Ed McMahon!� She was practically yelling now, raising her arms into the air. At the speed old Ed was going down the hall, he definitely was within earshot of our ramblings.
While we were speaking excitedly of our celebrity encounter, a woman breezed into the room, followed closely by two burly men. Her blouse, if you could even call it that, looked like a slinky version of medieval chain mail. It was tight around large breasts, revealing flesh from her cleavage to her navel. Her skirt was red velvet, shorter than anything I�d ever dared, barely covering her mile-long legs. Her black hair was pulled back in a tight, low ponytail, showcasing her dark and exotic features. She was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen.
At that moment, Shauna, Tara and I heard Howard broadcast, �And for today�s show we�re having porn star Tera Patrick. God, I would love to see her make out with another chick.�
Our eyes instantly shot to the breathtaking woman who had just sat down next to me. The room was silent.
I�m not sure if it was three years of college journalism pounded into my skull or pure curiosity, but I decided I had to speak to Tera Patrick.
�So,� I cleared my throat. �How�d you get into the business?�
Tera looked back at me, as did her two cronies. Shauna and Tara sat with their eyebrows raised.
I conducted my first �celebrity interview� with the Playboy alum and adult film star, passing time until we were up.
�Let�s go, Barbara Walters,� Shauna said jokingly when Gary returned to the room.
We were officially in the recording studios, standing shoulder-to-shoulder as sacrificial lambs. Life-sized cut outs littered the small room, whose size was deceiving on television. There was a poster of Rosie O�Donnell�s face, with a red �X� through it. Stuttering John, KC, Artie, Robin � Stern cast members I�d remembered from TV - were all in the room, reclining on plush purple couches. Realistic mannequins and dolls were arranged randomly, and a clothing rack of about 50 or so trashy bikinis was to our left. Oddities hung from the ceiling, various items of kitschy quality were scattered wildly. In the center of his chaotic universe sat the self-proclaimed �King of All Media� himself � Howard Stern.
He was surrounded by a massive, horseshoe-shaped radio control panel, which allowed him full reign of sounds, songs, callers, clips, anything he wished. Though I knew of his considerable size, 6�5��, he appeared much smaller and almost bird-like. His unruly black hair curled about his face haphazardly, reaching his shoulders. A non-descript t-shirt hung loosely on his gangly body, and dark sunglasses (though it was 7:30 AM) perched atop his prominent nose. Then he spoke.
�So we have these three MAXIM interns here today, and they�re pretty cute,� he was saying into a microphone. �But we�re not quite sure why they�re here � Gary, why are they here?�
I must have spaced out for a good five minutes. Perhaps it was the combination of lights, people, sounds, the fact we were live on the radio, or the weird puppets in sexual positions. I didn�t come to until Howard asked me what I had pierced.
�Pierced?� I asked, snapping out of it. I had an unfortunate case of cottonmouth.
�Yeah, you, the blonde, what�s your name. Heather. Both Shauna and Tara have their tongues pierced. What about you?�
�Uh. . .� I searched for words. What did I have pierced again? �My ears. Oh, and my belly.�
�Now,� Howard was starting to say, clearly enjoying this topic, �Shauna and Tara, I bet you got those tongue rings so you could please men better during oral sex.�
�My mom�s listening,� Shauna said, laughing.
�Well, I mean, why else would you get it? Have you asked guys if it really makes a difference? You have a lisp. Artie, did you hear her lisp?�
This interrogation and teasing went on for another five minutes as I stood silently praying he wouldn�t tear into me. Shauna and Tina were way more relaxed than I was, and were laughing with Howard as he mimicked a lisp. Luckily, the topic switched to the thong and poker chips we brought. Howard began to complain about the way John and KC played poker, saying they were �lame.�
�This is how lame KC is, girls,� Howard was telling us. �KC wet his bed the other day.�
�Please tell me you were drinking!� Tara said, a horrified look on her face.
Another few minutes of mindless banter and Howard �wrapped up� our segment by thanking us for coming, and offering to auction our gifts on the website E-Bay for charity.
We left the studios in a flurry of laughter and relief. Despite Shauna�s mother hearing about Howard�s suggested oral sex techniques, our mission was accomplished. We got into the studios and gave Howard the chips and thong. We met the Stern cast, as well as Ed McMahon and Tera Patrick. We had our 15 minutes of fame, even if it was at 7:30 in the morning and most normal people were in bed. And most importantly, we did it all with our clothes on.
Howard Stern