A Happy Meal with a Happy Ending
Last week dear readers you learned about me declining a lucrative offer to join the sex industry. Believe it or not, I occasionally regret that decision. Sure, I don’t have the stomach for “adult films” but I probably would have been a good stripper. Or dominatrix. It would simply be a matter of self-discipline and focus.
The problem is I have a notoriously impish sense of humor. The sight of some mousy chap who looks like he slaves over actuarial tables for a living getting used and abused by a statuesque Eastern European woman while strapped to wall gives me the giggles. I know this for a fact because I have seen this very scenario. Twice. In both cases I had to hurry my person out of earshot so as to release my category five case of the sillies.
I should probably just settle for stripping. My buddy Rebecca11222 brought an opportunity to my attention yesterday that might be just the thing. She writes:
From “Kitchen Delight” (which is barely a kitchen and hardly a delight) on N8th btw Driggs & Bedford today. Not actually IN Greenpoint, but I had to pass it in order to walk to Greenpoint.
Don’t ask about the special sauce.
Sir, would you like to super-size that handjob? Is that for here or to go?
P.S.: I’d like to give a shout out to my buddy Bob over at The Gowanus Lounge. As some of you may be aware, he is out of town at the moment. Of all places, he happens to be in Hawaii —which is soon to be grazed by a hurricane. Yikes!