Enright and two of his crew members – some of the people who work for Enright are buddies he grew up with in Virginia Beach, Virginia as early as age fifteen, they used to playfully “kidnap” other schoolmates – came to my apartment with a video camera the night before the abduction. Enright called me to schedule a second meeting and to ask the question that plagues pornographers everywhere (“The black dildo: Is it still a green light?”). “I think it could lend a note of interest.”Īmong the ways to tell the world “I’m really, really special,” planning your own kidnapping is one of the more elaborate it makes slashing your wrists and bleeding all over your parents’ bathroom sink look improvisatory and blithe. “But it might be cool to have Aaron, this guy I’ve been dating for two months, find me in a duffel bag and rescue me.” “Well, I don’t need my ear to be mailed to a major metropolitan daily,” I thought aloud. I said, “realistic.” And how did I want my ordeal to end, Enright asked. Enright asked if I wanted the pressure of the gun on my back to be theatrical or realistic. I said it might be “very dramatic” if I were initially approached on the street at an unspecified time and, while held at gunpoint, forced to mask my terror while led through crowded streets. He gave me a questionnaire that asked me to list my greatest fears: I listed “suffocation,” “drowning,” “slipping in vomit.”He asked if there were any other specific elements I wanted to include.

I’m thinking maybe the kidnappers’ indecision and lack of organization are what imperil me.” “So I’m looking to confront my fear of chaos.

“I’m sort of a control freak,”I found myself confessing to the handsome but boyishly creepy Enright.

I was sitting in my living room with Brock Enright, a twenty-six-year-old New York artist who plans, executes and videotapes kidnappings for hire. Be careful what you wish for – the future may have teeth.

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