Wednesday, March 12, 2014


After one of the smut emporia on Broadway closed its doors two years ago, the new tenants kept the name, but just removed the words "xx-rated magazines & novelties", and substituted "cheese and bologna".

Yes, they weren't busting out the same tired old technicolor full frontal nekidity mags -- printed filth has had its day, now the internet provides a higher quality sleaze-experience, complete with sound track -- but they tried to run a late-night Italo-Palestinian delicatessen.
With scant change of décor.

From T and A to sandwich meats; that's quite a change.

Possibly those are a substitute for titillation.

Me, I've always been a salami man.

I can remember years ago when a Russian immigrant who worked there would stand behind the strap-ons counter, in front of the famous "wall of dildos", and hold forth on philosophy.
From Hume through Locke to Heidegger and Sartre.
Exciting intellectual stuff. Magnetic.
It's why we were there.

He was a fascinating man. I wish I could remember his name.
Alas, all I can remember are the dildos.

I had an omelette with sliced stuff in it recently. Perhaps that's why the philosophy lessons came to mind.
I never went in after they started selling cheese and bologna.
Nothing can replace big rubber devices.
Not even food.

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