Do you remember the first time you came to the realization that you could be a consumer of porn? What brought you to this discovery? Did you turn 18 (or 21 in some jurisdictions) and suddenly realize that you were legally able to walk into the back alley bookstore and buy any Tom or Harry Dick you wanted? Or were you a late bloomer, like me?
I think the first time I ever realized that I could actually consume porn was around the age of 23. This was in a time when you actually had to leave the house and drive to the seedy section of town in search of that storefront with a neon XXX sign. Of course the internet was around then, but Moses could part the Red Sea faster than it took to download a 3- second animated gif.
Yes, the year was 1998, I was 23 and a friend of mine of similar age was staying at my apartment while he was in between jobs. One afternoon we were driving around, for no other reason than we were bored, when we happened upon one of those aforementioned stores. I was utterly shocked when my friend turned to me and said, “Hey! Let’s stop here!”
Being the goodie two-shoes that I was back then I hastily retorted, “We can’t go in there!” I was afraid of the remote possibility of running into someone I knew. It took me a long time to figure out that if you see an acquaintance at the Adult Mart then politely say “hi” and know that it will be a little secret amongst uhm... friends.
At my friend’s urging we went into the porn shop and walked back out about a half-hour later with a stack of gay DVD rentals and one “straight” boobie rag. Because, of course, every young gay guy buys a girlie magazine on his first trip to the porn shop. You’re not fooling the 300-pound grease ball working at the register. And trust me, he’s seen it all. So let your gay flag wave.
Back then consuming porn was quite the experience. If you intended to purchase some visual aids then you’d need to be prepared to go out in public and be seen doing so. You’d head to the other side of the tracks. Park your car in the parking lot in back of the store. Run as fast as you could from your car to the door all the while praying that no one you know drives by and catches a glimpse of you entering the establishment. Once inside you’d take a deep breath and head immediately to the the fetish section of your choice without saying a word to no one. With your head hung low you make your selection and proceed to the checkout counter where Mr. Greasy is gnawing on a triple big mac. He’d grunt as he wobbled up to the cash register. Hurry up man, I need to get out of here before someone recognizes me, you think. In a gruff monotone voice he offers “Condoms, Lube, or Cockring?” add-on sales. “Uhm, no thanks,” you say, trying to avoid eye contact. Then you grab your little brown bag and dash in a mad rush back out to the car. Yes! I made it. I got my porn. I don’t think anyone saw me.
That was the old days, and back then you had that special shelf in the back of the closet where you kept your naughty stash. Of course only you and one other person knew it was there. That other person was the BFF you confided in because heaven forbid ‘if I should die before I wake prayer to BFF my porn to take’. Yes, that was your backup plan if you got hit by a bus. That’s the one person you trusted to dispose of your porn collection before your family goes tagging your belongings for the estate sale and discovers your dirty little secret behind the stack of linens in the hall closet.
Fast forward to today and the entire porn consuming dynamic has changed. But has it changed for the good? Or, has it lost its luster? TO BE CONTINUED.
P.S. Do you have a good story about your first porn shop experience? Or ever run into someone you knew in an establishment of ill repute? I’d like to hear about it. Post your story in the comments section or send to me at aaron@masculinecurves.com
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