I'm sitting in my bed, struggling to sleep under the weight of all the world...again. Wondering how I'm going to pay rent next month, or any month after that. Wondering how I'm ever going to sustain any sort of income in an industry where everyone wants me to work for free.
Every night I ponder the world until I grow too exhausted to think anymore, and I die into dreams that fade before morning. But tonight something else keeps me awake�
Twenty feet from my window, two people are laying pork in the front seat of their white Nissan Pathfinder. And what's most disturbing to me isn't their total disregard for the neighborhood, it's that they are ugly and they are screwing.
They are ugly in an every-day fashion, like your local butcher, or the oaf that cuts your sandwich at the Deli. The kind of ugly that usually hides all the naughty bits behind closed doors and pulled shades, with the lights off.
But these people are not hiding. They are screwing in their car, under a streetlight, in front of a school. Skirt hiked up, pants dropped, sweaty and unapologetic.
Life as pornography, in the least tempting sense of either word.
They are destroying protective barriers set deep within in my mind. Barriers that prevent me from knowing and visualizing the disturbing and the disgusting...
Julia Child bathing�
Mr. Rodgers moving his bowels�
Bob Dole masturbating with his limp hand.
There they are, slapping and panting and moaning. Ugly people with ugly noises, doing ugly things.
Making ugly babies.
They are unashamed in their ecstasy, and they subject me to every thrust and grunt. Yet somehow, as much as this intrusion frustrates me, I am filled with a small sense of admiration.
Maybe if two people can meet in this gigantic city and dance and drink and talk themselves into screwing the night away in the front seat of their car�
then maybe there�s still hope for the rest of us ugly folk.
