… but you may want to, anyway.
What’s this about? Please do not read today’s post if you are under 18, or if you are particularly squeamish.
The theater, the theater, what’s happened to the theater?
Oh. It’s not THAT kind of theater! Carry on, then…
What is this weird post all about? Have I missed something here? Get to the point! (See, I know what you’re thinking…)
Okay, get to the point. Right then…
I used to be very uptight, very prudish. Hell, I wore a bra to bed every night, along with whatever else I was wearing. Not just some easy-going sports bra, either – we’re talking under-wires. And then, I changed. Call it a mid-life crisis if you will, but I’d like to think the transformation started before I met Adam, and he was just the thing that pushed me over the edge.
So… When the kids were off visiting their father, we went to an adult store. I used to get embarrassed walking into “that section” in Spencer’s. Truth? We went to a normal adult store, and I was embarrassed, and didn’t want to make eye contact with anyone in the store. That bothered me. So, months later, when the kids were out of town again, we went to a different one.
I’m not going to reveal locations here, I’ll just say that it’s not far from Gainesville, and this particular adult store has something more than your typical dildos, kinky lingerie, porn DVDs, or trapeze devices. This had something special. A theater. The sort of theater that destroyed Pee Wee Herman’s career.
They also have a set of booths in a separate room, but there didn’t seem to be anything happening in there. (Yes, we looked…) Whatever those were for, they had signs about “Paying customers only” and “only one person in the booth.”
But the theater… There is a sign on the door that lists pricing – it’s $20 for a block of time – I don’t recall how long. Three hours? But that price only applies to guys who go in by themselves. If a woman wants to go in and watch, it’s free, but she can’t enter alone – she has to take a male escort, and the male escort is also given free admission. Now, I consider myself a feminist, and initially, that triggered that little “Discrimination!” thing in my head, but after going inside – yeah. I don’t think I would want to walk into that place without a guy I knew, and a rather big, tough looking guy at that. The rule is there to keep peace, and to keep the place from getting shut down after a violent crime. Because let’s face it, we’re still not in a place where women can wander into a porn theater alone and not expect trouble.
Gay porn night is Tuesdays. Not sure how the couples thing works with that…
We walked in. It was dark, there was incense burning in the doorway, probably to mask the scent of sex. The room was filled with leather (or pleather?) love seats. There were several guys in the room. There was some sort of thing I can only call “Choke porn” on the screen.
Most of the guys were older. There was a guy wearing a baseball cap, t-shirt and shorts. He kind of reminded me of my father, except that as far as I know, my father wouldn’t go to a place like that. Nothing disturbing there, right? There was an older African American man toward the back of the theater, pants down, going to town on himself. As we walked in, they all turned and looked at us. We casually walked over to one of the sofas that wasn’t occupied and sat down. Some guy who looked like a Duck Dynasty person got up from a front row and walked out of the theater. Another guy with a pornstache, who was sitting in a sofa on the other side of Adam kept trying to make eye contact with me. They all seemed to expect us to be “part of the show.”
I went into “Mystery Science Theater” mode. To me, there is something comical about porn. I’m the obnoxious person in the room pointing out the bizarre tan lines, while Adam is pointing out the track marks. Some things to note: the dialogue always leaves something to be desired. Nobody in real life would be turned on by the stuff they say in porn. “Fuck my skull!” Um, ew?! And what is with the whole puking thing? How is that arousing, exactly? But, to each their own.
There was another old guy in there, we’ll call him “Mr. Grumpy.” He seemed to be with Duck Dynasty, who walked back in. They both kept kind of circling around us, and at one point, after Mr. Grumpy walked out for a bit then walked back in, he asked Duck Dynasty, “Are they doing anything yet?” with a nod toward us. Nope. We sure weren’t.
Then another couple walked in… A woman with white hair and a guy with a beard. Mr. and Mrs. Santa sat in the middle of the theater and proceeded to get pretty kinky. That was when the fun really started… the men all kind of circled around to watch, jerking off. Some of them were SO CLOSE to Mr. and Mrs. Santa, we wondered if they got an unexpected shower. You could hear the fapping sound between Mrs. Santa’s moans, that sound of rubbing.
We left before Mr. and Mrs. Santa finished what they were doing. It seemed wiser to make a getaway when there was less likelihood of Duck Dynasty and Mr. Grumpy following us.
Oh, yes, and the Dora picture above is something I found through a Google search, because I had seen it years ago. The toy actually came out in 2006. It wasn’t sold for long. Maybe they realized that they’d crossed a line…
Right about now, I’ll bet you’re wishing you’d read this BEFORE going to church this morning, so you could be spiritually cleansed? Okay, go enjoy the shower you probably want to take after reading this. I know I took a long one with industrial strength cleansers when I got home that night.