Rod Townsend (aka our commenter Momo), sometimes receives telephone calls from The Past, a mysterious entity that remembers where things used to be in New York before Starbucks and Whole Foods came to town.
"God bless Amerifuckinca, Criscocrotch!"
"The Past? I've never known you to be so patriotic."
"Dude. Clinton's got the country going in the right direction! The economy's great, the city's striving, and I totally just banged a soldier."
"Where would you meet a soldier?"
"Since it's Fleet Week there's little G.I. Ho's swarming the streets, but I got mines at Club U.S.A.!"
"Club USA? Is that something like Six Flags?"
"More like Six Thousand Fags! It's a nightclub in Times Square of all places. It's different than the places I usually go. Very 'produced' and 'thought out.' And the crowd on the huge main floor is way too diverse, but I guess that serves a purpose."
"Since when is diversity bad?"
"When you're coming all the way from downtown to Midtown, it's scary to begin with. And when you're on the dance floor and there's some turista de Barcelona getting up in your business in her Versace ensemble, it can be a little disheartening. I sort of walk to the door, give Kenny Kenny his kisses due, and head for the stage. If the trannies are giving show I'll stick around to hand out homage for a bit, but then it's straight up to the Thierry Mugler Room, to be among the civilized. The sound is way better there anyway. Granted I wasn't there for long last night."
"You hooked up with the soldier there?"
"Tongue-tits. They don't allow someone in a Navy uniform into the VIP area. No, there was drama because there's a bunch of heroin-based Ecstacy going around. So instead of the hyper atmosphere the speedy stuff usually gives you, everyone was all 'suck my finger' and shit. I headed up to the roof and it was, like, zombie-town. I'm surrounded by all these blinking Times Square lights and these brain-dead clubbies."
"It's good you didn't do drugs. Sometimes you should take a break from that stuff."
"What are you talking about? I get my shit from Formika's friend. It's always just right. Anyway. I was feeling avant garde so I headed down to the mezzanine area and that's where I saw him. He was in line for the slide wearing..."
"Yeah, there's a tube that you can ride down a piece of carpet from the mezzanine level down to the dance floor. Granted, if anyone in the know were to see you doing it, you'd probably be off every list ever. It's for, like, the masses, you know? Anyway. He was there in his tight white poly-cotton uniform getting all ready for his big slide-venture and our eyes totally locked. He rode down the slide but was looking at me until the very second he went into the tube."
"You didn't ride down to find him?"
"And commit social suicide? No. I walked over to the fetish area. There's this hallway that is lined up with video booths, like in a porn shop. Even though I sort of frown on the over-design of it all I have to admit it's sort of genius. And guess who I see?"
"Exactly. I'm all 'come hither' and he hither comes and we start talking. And I'm all like, 'Are you gay?' and he's all like, 'Don't ask, don't tell,' to which I'm all, 'Don't ask, it's obvious.' So then we went into one of the booths and started messing around."
"Messing around? At the club?"
"Yes and yes. He's never going to forget it. It was all like, 'your condom or mine?' and then I was banging him mercilessly, whisper-chanting in his ear, 'U.S.A., U.S.A.' The repressed make such great lays with all their pent-up energy. You gotta love Fleet Week."
"Well, we have it, but I wouldn't exactly call it fun. In my eyes it's just a bunch of stressed out soldiers walking around making homophobic comments."
"Dude. I can't imagine why they'd be stressed out. Being in the military's nothing but hanging out with a bunch of guys all day and night. Maybe traveling to Berlin or Japan or someplace cool like that."
"Well, they're stressed because ..."
"Hold up, sparklespunk, I've got a feeling that if you tell me you'll stress me out. We'll talk soon."