You would not believe what I found in my inbox this week. Naked Spam doing it with other Spam. Spam all over the walls and floors. What did I do to deserve this barrage of raw meat?
Oh, yeah, I used the phrase “sex with Labrador retrievers” in my last post. What did I think that would attract, updates from the American Kennel Club?
All I can say is I do not get porn, especially the really out-there stuff involving construction tools and hair accessories. I do not read it or watch it. However, I cannot resist turning to the back pages of our local independent weekly to read Savage Love. No matter how long I walk this earth, I will never, ever be able to say I’ve heard it all as long as Dan Savage is answering his mail.
I’m more of a let’s-leave-something-to-the-imagination person. I prefer tease, innuendo and mystery. A pair of tight pants to suggest what’s underneath rather than full-on nudity with party tricks is far more enticing. With few exceptions, sex in the mainstream cinema kills me: It’s over-the-top stupid. Maybe that’s why porn is so off-putting to me. Real sex is not really all that glamorous to watch. Some things are best left to the mind’s creative eye and mood lighting.
When I was 18, my boyfriend, my best friend, and I were sitting around bored one winter evening. We decided to do something really outrageous. Well, as outrageous as you can get when you are 18 in the suburbs and only have a few bucks collectively. So, we came up with the idea of going to a porno theater. We grabbed the newspaper, found the XXX movie listings, and tracked down the nearest theater.
I can’t speak for anyone else, but my nerves were jangling the closer we came to the ramshackle building with the leering marquee. We were in the scary part of Detroit. In case you didn’t know, that’s a wide area.
We didn’t have enough money for three tickets so we convinced the greasy looking ticket-taker that we were a “wink-wink, nod-nod” couple and got in on admission for two. After giggling for a few minutes over the merchandise in the display cases (super-sized they were, but candy bars they were not) we sprinted up the dark stairway toward the auditorium.
Nothing could prepare me for the larger-than-life character close-ups bobbing on the screen as we stumbled along the sticky floor to find a trio of empty seats. I think it took me a full five minutes to gather to courage to look up at the screen, to stop giggling uncontrollably, and for my eyes and ears to adjust to what the hell was going on around us. It was busy in those dark rows. I was too afraid to look.
Like all novelties, this one wore off fairly fast. There wasn’t much to the plot. The soundtrack, if you closed your eyes, could double for a scene from a meat-processing plant. It didn’t take us long to feel twitchy. We decided to detach our soles from the tile and get home to take showers and wash our clothes on the hot cycle.
The porn world is big. I cannot fathom it. I cannot escape it. I’m not going to march in a parade to ban it or anything but I wish it would go back into hiding a little bit.