Tomi Kita was hard enough, rich enough and pretty enough to style himself the Male Madonna, the Asian Prince, the New Pig on the Block.
by Tom Kagy

PAGE 1 of 7

Summer calls Kita a clinically certifiable sex addict, giving me a martyred look that dispels any doubt I may have entertained about the true nature of their relationship.
omi Kita pads barefoot through the Mondrian's black marble lobby, nodding and smiling at long-haired loungers, as though they were guests in his own living room. In a sense they are. Kita has made the West Hollywood hotel his home since selling his Las Vegas mansion four months earlier. Walking discreetly behind Kita is a pretty blue-eyed blonde whom he introduces in his surprisingly gentle, slightly hoarse voice, as his, ahem, secretary. Her name is Summer which strikes me as poetically correct given the late-September heat wave that has turned the LA basin into a shimmering cocktail of toxic gases.
     It is lunch hour and we move into the hotel's cafe with its climax view of West Hollywood and the Mid-Wilshire district. As we seat ourselves at a window table, I am still wondering if there might be some connection between Tomi Kita and the unrolled fluorescent orange condom I saw under the urinal in the men's room during a pre-meeting pitstop. My thinking goes like this: (1) Kita is a long-haired rock musician who writes, sings, plays and arranges songs with titles like "Desire" and "Masturbation"; (2) he posed buck naked for his CD cover; (3) he likes being called the Asian Prince, the Male Madonna and, in the words of rock producer/promoter Kim Fowley, the New Pig on the Block; (4) Kita is the only guest walking around the lobby barefoot; (5) he has ready access to a blonde who is obviously not his secretary. I'll grant it isn't an airtight case.
     Before I get around to asking Kita about the orange rubber, he adds fuel to my conjectural flames by admitting that his life and music are centered around sex. Summer calls Kita a clinically certifiable sex addict, giving me a martyred look that dispels any doubt I may have entertained about the true nature of their relationship. She adds, in that guileless way only American blondes can get away with, that Kita's demands for sex seven or more times a day is getting to be a nuisance, a real threat to her health.
     "It can be a pain in the butt sometimes," she says, laughing. She probably didn't intend the double-entendre, what with her being so young and being from Modesto. She has been in LA only a few months. Kita is her first boyfriend, she says.
     "With him it's anywhere, anytime," she complains, confirming my suspicion about the orange rubber in the men's room. "I'm only in my early 20s," she says by way of explaining her trouble keeping up with Kita. "I haven't reached my sexual peak yet."
     Kita sits looking detached, maybe a little proud, about the addiction Summer has just made public.

     "At parties he just goes up to girls and asks if they want to have sex," Summer reports. She met him when she accompanied a friend she was staying with, a well-known porn star named Rusty Rose, to Kita's place. Kita and Rusty had known each other for some time. Summer speculates the two may have met at a porn convention which Kita sometimes attends. I ask whether Kita has ever considered acting in a porn film. Laughing, Summer offers that he would make a great porn actor. But can he act? She nods, her face screwing comically to suggest the weirdness of their sexual secrets. PAGE 2

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