My X-Rated Life
You know how some days you feel like a magnet, attracting alike things all day? Like, you see purple sweaters everywhere or the whole world seems to be reading the same book? Well, today was my day of porn.
It started this morning on the bus.
On the way to work, I looked over at the Times Square-sized flashing reader board for the Deja Vu ("Showgirls" and "Full Nudity") which advertised "Free Admission with Military ID." During these difficult times in Iraq, that's the least we can do for our soldiers, isn't it? It warmed my heart.
The board also announced "Amateur Night Every Wednesday." Is that like Open Mike? I got to thinking that all those pole-dancing workout classes might be cultivating a big pool of fresh talent for amateur nights. Teri Hatcher demonstrated some pole-dancing technique on Oprah and she said during the classes she takes, the women spend the first half "working out" and then they dance for each other, laps and all. She said it's very "empowering." Uh-huh.
And finally, Deja Vu announced: "Waitstaff Needed." Hmmm...Renee Zellweger worked her way through college that way...
As I pondered some new career options, the bus continued on to the "Lusty Lady" X-rated theater which has THE BEST marquee slogans EVER. Sometimes they'll work in a reference to the neighboring Seattle Art Museum exhibits, a popular movie, or current events. Today's topical headline read "Tour De Pants." Witty, but not quite as good as my all-time favorite, especially in Seattle: "Schwingin' in the Rain."
Back in my neighborhood, I met my beloved for dinner and we grabbed a copy of The Stranger blaring a cover story entitled "Erotica or Therapeutica?" which traced the Seattle Burlesque scene, past and present. The article is subtitled "Adventures in Tassel Twirling." I started to sense a "theme" for the day...
A few pages later was an ad for "Hump", The Stranger's first Amateur Porn Contest. Jesus! At the rate I'm going, I will no doubt come up with an entry myself.
But that's not all...even deeper (no pun intended) into the paper was an article about the Seattle mayor proposing new restrictions on strip clubs like turning up the lights so "all objects are clearly visible," all tips being deposited in "a container provided by the club," and "a four-foot rule for all lap dances." This might sound funny, but apparently there is a lawsuit pending which is forcing the mayor's hands (again, no pun intended...seriously!) and two Seattle council members were ousted in the last election because of questionable campaign contributions from strip club owners. Tough times for titty twirlers. Do you remember that scene in The Graduate? That woman had a GIFT!
OK...by this time in the day, I'm thinking I am just one big pervert. I even look askance at the ad which reads "Learn to Blow Glass."
Is it just me? What is going on? Is someone trying to tell me something?
We get finally home and I collapse on the couch with my laptop to find some respite, when I open up my browser to -- I swear to God -- a Village Voice article about anal bleaching. I'm not kidding! There are enough people out there who show off their buttholes that they need them to be pretty -- and they go to salons to groom them!
I think it's pretty obvious that today my psychic energy is flowing in a certain direction (if you know what I mean). And there's only one thing left to do. You'll have to excuse me. I need to find my boyfriend and I gotta get these clothes off.
Sources: Metafilter The Stranger Deja Vu