It’s been 22yrs since Gianni Versace was gunned down in front of his Miami mansion. The murder shocked the world, the fashion industry and me personally. Just a few months prior, I bought his murderer, Andrew Cunanan a beer in a New York City nightclub. And I will forever be haunted by the memory…
It was late spring 1997, I just completed my junior year of college and was back home in Brooklyn for break. It was a hot beautiful day. Feeling bored, I jumped on the D train and headed to the West Village to do some shopping and cruising. I strolled over to the Christopher Street pier to take in the sun and the sights – cute boys were everywhere. After sunset, I headed towards 7th Ave to catch the train home. As I walked down the subway stairs, I noticed a wanted poster; a suspected gay spree killer was on the loose. I stopped dead in my tracks and took a mental note.
When I arrived home, I called my best friend Leslie and told her about my day and the creepy poster. She said, “don’t worry about it, you wouldn’t be going to the type of places where someone like that would be lurking.” I can’t remember the exact timing, but later saw on the local news a report about the man on the poster. His name was Andrew Cunanan. Cunanan was wanted for several murders across the country. One of his victims, architect David Madson was found rolled up in a rug with a gunshot wound to his head. Cunanan made his way to Chicago where he took his next victim. The authorities suspected he would perhaps flee to New York City where he could easily blend into the large gay community.
The next week, I desperately needed a night out. I asked Leslie to meet me at a now defunct gay sports bar in Chelsea called Champs. When I arrived, the bar was somewhat empty but filled up as it got closer to midnight. Leslie was late and my beer was getting warm. I spotted a handsome guy sitting on a small stage near the dance floor, I smiled. I couldn’t help thinking he looked familiar but could not place him. When he smiled back, I approached and introduced myself. I offered to buy him a beer. He said, “yes.” I think it was a Bud Lite. His name was Andrew, he was in town visiting from “Chicago.” He was an “architect” which I thought was impressive.
We made small talk about the NYC nightlife and where the hottest clubs were located. He mentioned something about partying. I answered, “I enjoy partying too but responsibly; I need to function.” Then things got weird, he said something odd, he said, “well, I don’t need to function.” This struck me as bizarre. I thought, how could someone not function if they were a successful architect? Right?
He then said, “I’m heading over to Twilo” which was notorious for its druggie raves. I told him I was going to stay behind to wait for my friend. We shook hands and he left. When Leslie arrived, we danced the night away. Leslie offered me a ride home. In the car, I told her about my encounter with Andrew and how I felt there something was extremely off about him. He gave me the creeps. I was truly freaked out, so much that I got chills telling Leslie what happened.
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Andrew Cunanan would spend 8 days on the run before he took his own life in a show down with police on a houseboat where he had been squatting. Although, Cunanan was dead…I called the crime show America’s Most Wanted. If anything, I hoped to help establish a timeline. As it turns out, he was New York around the time he murdered victim number four, William Reese in New Jersey. Police linked him to hotel receipts…Cunanan had been staying at the West Side Club; a gay sex club where you could rent cheap private rooms. Thank God, I didn’t leave with him that night. I was terrified.
The following spring, I graduated college. By fall, I was working as an Executive Assistant at USA Network. It was fashion week and I was in my early 20’s. Meaning, I could go out on a week night and be perfectly fine the next day. I decided to go to Splash, a famous gay bar around the corner from where I met Andrew. I had several drinks and got caught up in the music….the next thing I knew Donatella Versace walked in with an entourage of exotic gay men.
At this point, I was pretty drunk and joined Donatella and her boys on the dance floor. My moves must have caught her attention….she pulled me into the circle formed around her. As she whipped her straw-like blonde hair in my face, we engaged in a dance off to Whitney Houston’s “Your Love is My Love.” After a while, Donatella and entourage left the club. I felt dirty knowing I bought the man who murdered her brother a beer. It was surreal to say the least.
Fast forward to around 2005. I was sitting by a fire place in the lobby at the Four Seasons in Jackson Hole, Wyoming. By then, I was working at Glamour Magazine and was there for a National Sales Meeting. Our San Francisco Sales Rep, Kurt DeMars randomly started talking about Andrew. Turns out, they knew each other. In fact, Andrew would use his name as an alias while on the run. But the connection doesn’t end there. Last year, I was booked on FX’s Versace: American Crime Story. I worked in an airport scene with Darren Criss who played Andrew. He looked so much like him. I wanted to share my story, but most likely would have been escorted off set. Each time I saw Darren, a mental flashback would hit. I tired to make sense of it all but couldn’t. It’s like everything came full circle in that moment. The most valuable lesson; I learned to trust my instincts.
All these years later, I am still haunted by my brief encounter with one of the worlds most notorious serial killers.
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