MIGHTY NIGHT

This evening I will not spend much time at the cigar bar, though I do like to relax with one or two pipes at end of a busy day. Why? Because today is Halloween. Not that many of the regulars at my favourite place to let my hair down and light up celebrate this particular holiday, but there's a whole world of insane monkeys between here and Financial District.
If I go there, it would be better to go early.
And return before twelve.

However, I may spend an hour or two around midnight on Polk Street looking for satyrs with enormous glue-on shafts, girls with very realistic bullet wounds and ax slashes painted on their pendulous breasts.
And the ever popular Nasty ("slut wear") Little Bo Peeps.
Or, this being San Francisco, Little Bo Penis.
Plus big black body builders.
All she-male.

A lot can go wrong in a dozen blocks.
Very very wrong.

I shan't dress up. When I leave the apartment, I am already in costume.
Sometimes I spend the whole morning inside, in the buff.
Drying out after a shower.
Pale, naked.

No, I am not a professional nudist, but why put on clothes if nobody can see me and I'm not frying bacon?


I did not ponce around naked when I reamed and re-bevelled my bulldogs. Instead, I wore baggy sleep-pants and a wife-beater.

This must be mentioned, because common sense dictates clothing when doing something filthy. Otherwise you end up with cake and ashes in your navel and crotch.


Work requires clothing. A lunchtime nibble in Chinatown requires clothing. Having a pipeful or two at the cigar bar requires clothing.
Despite the cleanth of these activities.

I can honestly say that none of my coworkers have ever seen me nude.
Same goes for Chinese people in the neighborhood where I snack.
And it goes without saying that cigar aficionados haven't either.
Which is good, because most of them are pudgy and male.
I am a profound sexist, and limit my exposure.
My eyes only, nowadays.


THEY WALK AMONG US

Many of the younger people on Polk Street this evening are not nearly so modest. Consequently I expect to see some flamboyant exhibitionism later on, when the true sex-gargoyles start flocking. Programmers, renunciants, and slut-freak zombies of all five genders.

There will be nipples in all four directions.

Some will be grease-paint green.

Others pierced.


*      *      *      *      *


I do not have a cellular phone or a digital camera.
And maybe I should wear rubber gloves.


I will be the scariest thing anyone will see today.
I am in the tobacco business.
A merchant of death.


Come here little girl, would you like a Havana?



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