The Mop-man and Samantha Fox
You were seduced upon arrival, predicated on the sensuous delights that were actually attainable. Times Square in the year 1983 emitted simultaneous excitations; some undeniably irresistible. Bursting with contagious energy, all you had to do was be there to know that you belonged; and that you never wanted to leave.
As a cashier I dispensed tokens and silver dollars at a pulsating peep show known as the ‘711’. I primarily worked on the night shift for Joy, a Jamaican woman who managed the second ‘floor’, comprised of live naked ladies and spectacular sex acts, among other things. A vital component of my job demanded the swabbing of sperm squirted in the privacy of booths, subdued by a lethal concoction of decontaminant that permeated the premises. And I also smoked a lot of marijuana which allowed me to withstand just about anything, while groovin’ to the disco beats and reggae blasted from the tape deck, courtesy of Joy.
To the rear of the floor existed the Green Door Theater, where blue movie stars performed week-long engagements, sometimes held over. Myself and a fellow pot head who functioned as a live sex show performer used to puff joints in the Green Door, shrouded by the relative obscurity of darkness. On this occasion, the legendary Samantha Fox was on stage engaged in a menage-a-trois with the delectable Tish Ambrose, and Willie, a former cashier who graduated to ‘stud’, and then full-fledged alcoholic. Once seated we lit up a huge spliff of Thai weed, and soon intoxicated vapors wafted past stage lights that bathed the live lewd acts. Upon inhalation of our blessed sacrament, a gorgeous Oriental woman seated in the row right in front of us turned around, and bluntly asked us: ‘Do you mind if I get a hit of that?’ Without hesitation, my friend replied ‘Sure. Why not?’ and passed her the humongous spliff, which was not an uncommon occurrence at rock concerts. After several tokes and intermittent coughing, she passed it back to us. ‘This is some good fucking shit’, she says, at which point I asked her ‘Are you Mai Lin, the porno star?’ To which she replied ‘Why yes I am!’ We were taken aback; and then as we were leaving, my pal commented. ‘Boy, wouldn’t I like a little nookie with that fortune cookie!’
The following day I was back on the floor, dispensing silver dollars to men in raincoats, mopping the cum-stained booths, and groovin’ to the endless disco hits, like ‘Born To Be Alive’ and ‘You Make Me Feel Mighty Real’, courtesy of Joy. Suddenly I noticed a commotion that emanated from the vicinity of the Green Door Theater. Palpitations of excitement rippled forth from the rear of Peep-A-Live Stage 2, as the exquisite Samantha Fox herself emerged from the Green Door exit. Surrounded by her loyal entourage and fanatical followers, she grazed the floor beyond the curvature of the stage. Draped in an effervescent white fur coat, her superb presence saturated the senses; a raw sensuality evident in the X-rated films that premiered in adult cinemas all over. With repeated flash-bulbs, the paparazzi seized the initiative, obviously in awe of her. But Samantha Fox was perhaps the most elegant blue movie star of them all.
Nearby I hovered around the Fantasy Booths, in case I had to grab a mop. As my cashier’s apron dangled over my dungarees, I looked less than presentable; still there was no place that I’d rather be than the live peep shows. Then Samantha Fox came into view, as her convoy advanced further; her subtle movements mesmerizing. Although she remained a distance away, she was indeed heaven-sent. Strangely enough I wasn’t self-conscious; on a sudden whim, I decided to wave to her, which she noticed(!). With immediate eye-contact, she acknowledged me, then gestured in my direction. For a moment I froze; ‘Me?’ I mouthed. But she had already taken leave of her devoted worshippers, and began to stroll towards me. Within seconds she was standing right in front of me; the closest a mop-man had come to a sophisticated porno star. ‘My Earth Angel,’ she panted. Then before I could shy away, she went and hugged me. But it was no mere hug; it was a long embrace that allowed me to inhale the essence of her being. Then after what seemed like an eternity, she let go and gazed at me adoringly. I began to well up in tears, as I realized my fondness for her. ‘From now on, you’re my little Earth Angel,’ she sighed. ‘All mine.’ And then she was on her way; escorted by her entourage down the stairs to a waiting limousine.
She radiated an empathy; and then she touched me. And then she went on her way. I just shivered with the sensations, the glow she bestowed upon me.