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  I grew up and went to college in Southern California. The Los Angeles Times is THE newspaper for all of So Cal (regardless of what those other papers might try to tell you), and for many years their slogan was, “One Hundred Years of Service to Southern California”.
I also went to an all-girl’s Catholic liberal arts college. I was not then and am not now a Catholic, but I was and still am a girl, so I had part of the requirement down. And I was willing to go into the same debt as a small nation’s GNP in order to do my time there, so the school let me in.
I had a lot of fun in college, but along in my upperclassmen years, I, like so many young people, wondered how the other half lived. By the other half, of course, I mean those who go to porno flicks in the movie theater. (Being tagged as The Great Corrupter isn’t so much a nickname as truth in advertising, folks.) Of course, most girls then would not (and probably would not now) go to a porno theater by themselves. Like going to the bathroom, some things are just better done in packs.  Aw, I thought it was #2. acolytes minions trainees nearest and dearest and I went to see the show, so to speak. We chose an afternoon matinee since we all had dates later on that evening. We also chose a Pussycat Theater, because, well, they were the top of the line porno theaters and it was only the best for us!We were old enough to get in legally, so that wasn’t an issue. The issue the ticket taker had with us was that we wouldn’t stop cracking up. “You’ll need to be quiet inside,” she scolded. The girls with me were giggling so hard they were at risk of heart failure. “Yeah, um right,” I replied. “Wouldn’t want to disturb the other patrons and cause them to, you know, have to start all over again.” Shrieks of laughter from my posse greeted this one. “Can I see your ids again?” the ticket taker asked. We obtained our stubs and sauntered in. The first feature had already started, at least so far as we could tell. It was a compilation of ‘money shots’ from a variety of films -- truly an immediate gratifier if there ever was one. But since it was already dark inside, choosing seats was something of an issue. We wanted seats together but we also wanted to ensure they’d be at least sort of clean. Easier hoped for than spotted, especially in the dark. We also felt that not sitting right next to a man alone was probably a wise choice. We had to split into two teams, because the theater was that full. At noon on a Saturday. During intermission we scanned the crowd to make sure none of our dates were there, but apparently we were all going out with nicer people than we ourselves were. There were two women in there aside from ourselves -- and they were clearly on dates. We congratulated ourselves on the fact that we weren’t going on a date to the Pussycat Theater, and settled in for the next showing. Before the next movie started, the Pussycat ran ads, just like real movie theaters did. One of their ads was for the Pussycat Theater chains. I guess in case the throes of personalized passion had caused the patrons to forget where they were or something. The audience had been amazingly silent during the first feature -- either that or the moaning on-screen had drowned out the moaning in the audience. But they were equally rapt for the ads. There are some things I can’t resist. Silence like this is one of them. As the Pussycat ad came on-screen for the SECOND time, I couldn’t help myself. In a stage whisper, I said, “A hundred years of service to Southern California.” The audience went into hysterics. They’d heard me and my friends giggling for the first feature and I suppose they just gave in. Their mistake. Because once my loud mouth had gotten a good laugh, the rest of my posse felt it was open season. And what a season it was. A male lead said in a ‘sexy’ manner to an extremely flat-chested female lead, “Grab your breast.” “What breast?” one friend shouted out. “I’m almost there!” one of the other male leads cried. “Same with the guy next to me!” the friends behind me said in unison. This was proved to be quite true. “Stop me if I go too fast.” The male leads, of which this film had a plethora, had all the good lines, to use the term loosely. “Do me baby, hurry up and DO ME!” This was from me and all the rest. College Mass had made us really good at speaking as one. And on it went. The film ended, the lights came up, and we got a round of applause. Which was nice, because the theater manager merely requested we never again enter his establishment, as opposed to calling the police. Nowadays, of course, you can get your porn on the internet. But it’s just not the same, in the privacy of your own home. Because there’s nothing like a group of people, all laughing at the same ‘money shot’ to really bring a sense of brotherhood and belonging, even to the most deviant group. Not that I could go to a Pussycat now, even if there was one close by. Apparently, I’m still banned from entering their establishments, particularly if I’m with a group of giggling women. The sacrifices one makes for one’s art. |
The Great Corrupter
