SHOW FOLLIES CENTER
Show Follies Center, located at 711 7th Avenue, and open 24 hours, beared the closest resemblance to Show World in that it practically mirrored the incomparable ambience and contagious energy of the flagship store. Formerly Adulterama, and situated next to a Spanish-language twin cinema, ‘711’ as it was affectionately referred to by its loyal employees occupied a large two-floor building cloistered on a block rampant with motion pictures, amusements (the gritty Playland arcade right across the street), and other sensual diversions in the tawdry tradition of Times Square. Passersby immediately detect Richie’s epicurean approach to cleanliness as they inhale the fresh scent of a fruity cocktail concoction of disinfectant that permeated from the premises onto the street(!). Upon entrance, the visitor is confronted by a cashier stationed at a desk informing him that (4) tokens for a dollar is requisite to proceed any further; which actually is the currency employed in either the video arcade, the live peeps, or the purchase of any item in the bookstore. Soon the visitor finds himself systematically accosted by a disproportionate distribution of pornographic materials strategically displayed on long orange counters which dominate the center aisle. Full-color fuckbooks are proudly displayed everywhere; as gluttons for smut devour the glossy pictorials, many of which are imported from Denmark. Elsewhere in the bookstore, amidst novelties, marital devices are prominently displayed; assorted rubber dildos of all shapes, sizes, and textures, as if the penis were a status symbol amongst the proletariat. Presentations of videocassettes, both Beta and VHS inhabit display cases and every nook and cranny, flaunting films deemed irresistible in their quality and X-rated content. Once this onslaught on the senses has somewhat subsided, the visitor ventures down a corridor that actually extends to a quadrangle surrounding a staircase, bringing the grand total of video peeps on the ground floor to (50); each a portal to the best porn available on the market, that incidentally can also be purchased in the bookstore!
As stated previously, the multiple video peeps are scrubbed spotless in the Show World tradition, with an antiseptic approach second to none. That of which completely shatters the stigma that peep shows are disgustingly filthy; clearly a Basciano prerequisite. Were the booths subjected to the purification rites amongst the tribes of Papua New Guinea? Regardless, the video arcade itself is a bastion to self-gratification, where repressed men can stroke their genius within its confines; untarnished reputation intact.
But up above, the boom of disco beats propels visitors to climb a decorated staircase. Flashing neon pronouncements are seared into the consciousness as customers gravitate to the ‘floor’ and encounter (14) Fantasy Booths housed by scantily-clad temptresses who strut their stuff to the tune of a Susan B. Anthony silver dollar. Also sharing the expanse of the floor are (2) 18 window circular Peep-A-Live stages, accessible by the insertion of a mere 25 cent token, where voyeurs view Live Sex Acts performed by Love Teams (male-female, lesbian, junkie, and the occasional thrusting three-some). Customers burning with lust flock to the stages to relieve themselves; then scurry out to evade disgrace, as a porter furtively swabs the squirted remains. Then to the rear of the stages lies the kinky Green Door Theater; a separate entity open-stage experience, minus the inhibitions of plexiglass. With an admission of $10 through a turnstile, blue movie stars performing limited and intimate engagements graze an elevated stage; with intermittent Love Teams on their last dance before a sold-out show at the Pearly Gates.
Like a sexual playground, 711 satisfied a carnal craving effectuated by Times Square itself. However, clearly the congregation at lunchtime and between shifts (6pm) leave little doubt that Show Follies is the destination for corporate executives and crossdressers, and the next best thing to the Holy Grail. Stoked by their uncontrollable libido, suit and tie perverts sprinted to the floor, while vigorous mop-men (some driven by psychosis) shout: ‘CIRCULATE, GENTLEMEN, CIRCULATE! MOVE AROUND AND TAKE IN A SHOW!’ Hence the ritual of placing a show girl on a pedestal to be adored and worshipped, as smitten men with briefcases anxiously waited in line; sometimes entering the cubicle before the removal of splattered sperm. While sick puppies shed their distemper for the kitty-box of their dreams, drooling diamond merchants ignored the impermissible taboo, in spite of themselves (!)
As the 711 thrived and climaxed repeatedly, its existence stayed consistent with the ambiguity of Times Square. Peep emporiums and sexual theaters aroused passions and desires, with forms of deliverance not within the confines of moderation. Though the accumulations of lust shattered the restraints of abstinence, such outlets were later encroached upon, with Richie’s effervescent peep booths eventually declared obsolete and sterilized for good.