Last week, a random question entered my mind: I wonder how the current pandemic is affecting the porn industry.
I probably should include some context here.
My birthday is in March, and my friends got me a gift subscription to eHarmony.
A not-subtle-at-all attempt to fix my current relationship status.
Actually, their first suggestion was to “take [me] out to a bar and find [me] a man.”
I retorted with, “Yeah? Where? Neverland? The Matrix? The Upside Down? Qo’noS?”
Seriously, that’s how crazy the world is right now. One of the booziest days in the entire Western calendar, and there were no bars open to celebrate in.
And I’m still not sure how online dating will suss out, given the state of things.
Yet, because we are all stubborn (our best quality, by far), we had one of our group (the one who works at a liquor store, which is still considered an essential service–thank Goddess!), buy all the discontinued and discounted alcohol she could for $120, which is what we figured a group of four ladies on a mission might spend in a bar.
Then we sat around a bon-ish-fire near one of their houses, and partook.
We didn’t sit six feet apart. At one point, the lesbian among us tried to give me a lap dance. We drank from the same cup for each new spirit. Somebody (not me, honest) pooped in the bushes. And we laughed like a witches’ coven, something I’ve missed.
Most of the hooch deserved to be discontinued, our considered opinion.
Also, Estrella Jalisco is verrrryyyy skunky. Not even a lime wedge covers the taste.
My exact words were, “It tastes like I am giving a rim-job to a skunk I met in a dive bar .”
Then we responsibly doused the fire (with water) and wandered back home on foot.
This was two weeks ago, more or less, and I did not contract corona.
I did drink a Corona when we got home, because one of the herbal liquors we tried tasted like green Nyquil. Plus, that Estrella Jalisco. Skunk rim-job. Ugh.
Plus, you know what they say: a Corona a day keeps the corona away.
Or at least the Heineken. I hate Heineken.
And, oh, I took a copy of my book of poetry and recited it cover to cover.
Maybe I should review myself on Amazon: “My drunk friends love this book! They asked me to read all of it out loud. Also, I seem to have lost my bra.”
Actually, the time I lost my bra on 4th Avenue in Tucson, Arizona was on St. Patrick’s Day back in 2000, and the friend whom I’d crashed with that night was very sweet and drove me back to the scene of the crime the next morning to see if I could find it.
Doesn’t matter. Whoever found it, I hope it makes them happy. Blessed be.
Afterwards, I went and got a tattoo of two fish (i.e. Pisces symbol) on my lower back.
The needle artist kept complaining about how much I was bleeding and I said, “Then you will need to be closed on January 1, February 15, March 18, May 6, July 5. Forever.”
Again, not that I believe in astrology, but I needed something identifying and I ❤ blue.
If I were to do it again back then, I’d have something from The Wizard of Oz placed higher up towards my left hip.
If I were to do today, I would have it be an English badger because I have taken the quiz, from Pottermore, and I am an utterly absolute Hufflepuff.
Then again, I’d also be okay with a Honey Badger tattooed on my backside somewhere.
Because the Honey Badger don’t care, don’t take no shit.
But back to the initial question.
I actually first Googled “how is the current pandemic affecting eHarmony”
Then, not surprisingly, my line of thought devolved into “how is the current pandemic affecting the porn industry.”
This is our new reality. We are all waiting for the hammer to fall.
Can you imagine such a gathering happening now?
I would tell you to tip your waitress, but… seriously, what waitress?
Still, on the bright side, this isolation gives me more time to peruse and polish my poems. I will probably be able to publish another ebook of poems by the end of April.
In the meantime, I need to find some more contest to enter.
Here’s another poem, about rooms in a house. I should have posted it before guitar.
the last day I saw him,
he’d backed into his parking spot.
I had a good idea
of what could happen, what could not.
a picture on a page
from when they drove it off the lot,
that stick-shift regal ride.
when did he learn she was a sot?
he got the house and car.
aches to know how they must have fought.
so, wherever he parks now
I hope it heals him: the upshot.