God I hate weirdos.
Long-haired weirdos, fast-talking weirdos, salesperson weirdos, gay weirdos. I hate weirdos.
I know, I know, to each his own. But I like good old fashioned values. Mom, apple pie, Old Glory and, as we used to say in the Army, the girl you left behind.
Well, I have to admit, in the spirit of full disclosure, that I have a few vices. There's the occasional belt of straight up Jim Beam, there's a penchant for fast cars which like to exceed the speed limit, and shaving a few strokes off my golf score. Oh, another vice came to the front by accident, when I attended a bachelor party which started at a strip club, moved over to an adult boutique, and then back to the club for a few lap dances.
So what, you say? No real harm there, right?
Probably not. Still, the latter trip to the world of exotic dancing and peep shows wet my appetite, and on a business trip to Philadelphia I found myself drawn, like metal to a magnet, to the flashing neon lights of an adult bookstore on Market Street.
Now I have to tell you that I've had a fairly normal sex life, at least to my knowledge. I like making love to a woman, caressing a soft body, hearing a woman moan to my ministrations. Of the dozens of positions explained in the Kama Sutra, though, I still liked missionary the best, although I have never tossed a young lady out of bed if she wanted to be on top or do the deed doggie or side-by-side. What can I say, missionary is my favorite, and I am not ashamed to admit it.
While I may not have the most active sex life, it is fulfilling. I'd like it to be more frequent, but, I can't complain.
Still, when looking out the hotel window, that adult bookstore beckoned and I found myself casually walking over to it late one Tuesday night. My work was done after a productive business dinner, and I was catching the morning Metroliner back to the Big Apple.
As I approached the store I noticed a couple guys leaving, and since they looked "normal" I felt a boost of confidence, as if I wouldn't be, well, a weirdo, for entering. Armed with that evidence I opened the door and stepped inside. There were magazines, videos, lingerie, adult toys, you name it. But what drew my attention was the wall filled with movie boxes depicting the clips being showed in the peep shows in the back room.
Wow, everything was on that wall, from straight to gay, from domination to transsexual, you name it, and it was there. I quickly looked around, then slipped back into the dark room with about two dozen booths. I went toward the back and slipped inside a booth in the back, making sure I closed, and locked, the door behind me.
That was my first mistake, because the room was totally dark. Damn, I thought, there must be a place to drop some quarters somewhere. After feeling around like a blind man, I finally found a place to drop my change, and dropped in a couple quarters, immediately starting a film.