28 October 2012

Peep Show

I posted this on my old blog many years ago and thought I'd repost here for your reading pleasure.




Every single time I walk down Swanston Street with Tim, one of us says - let's go to the $2 Peep Show and the other responds yeah, one day. We'd gotten to the door several times then chickened out.

Last night, brave and befuddled on a few too many pints, we got outside the Peep Show and looked at each other in mischevious concensus.

We've got to to do it.

It's now or never.

Inside the door, a bored gentleman sat at his counter collecting money for the cinema. He grunted and nodded his head toward the stairs.

Upstairs, in the adult magazine and toy alcove, the boy behind the counter told us there was a 5 minute wait. So we huddled next to the rack of plastic-wrapped magazines to count out our $2 coins. We didn't have any. Tim wanted to run down the street and get some. As if I was going to wait in the peep show alcove alone. There were some very scary trench-coated men hovering around.

It took a while, but my drunken brain finally realised that - der, the man at the counter would have change.

We combined all our coinage and ended up with about $12 in $2 coins. And it was time for the show to begin.

Outside the phone-box sized booth was a sign One Person Per Booth. We ignored that and crammed inside. We put our coins in the slot and waited for the screen in front of us to lower but instead a porn movie started playing on the tiny monitor below. Boy, did we feel ripped off.

Eventually, we found the other coin slot, the one for the live show. Tim wanted to wait for our coins to run out on the porn movie first, being being economically responsible. But the porn just kept going and going with a repetitive monotony and I wanted the live show.

We can watch porn any time, I hissed. Put the coins in. (Note, I can't and don't watch porn any time but, in theory I could).

The $2 Peep Show is such a gyp. You have to put in 2 x $2. That isn't a $2 Peep Show, that's a $4 Peep Show. It is completely false advertising.

Tim put the coins in the right slot and the screen disappered. The show was happening. A girl, with toys, writhed on the bed in front of us.

I don't think I need to go into all the gory details here as I'm sure you can imagine what was happening. If not, then go invest your own $4 and find out.

But, I must say, it was the most joyless, unerotic thing I've ever seen in my life. How do people get off on that kind of thing? The girl had an expression that said...when the hell does my shift finish so I can get the hell out of here? Seriously, I've worked in factories where people working on a production line at 6.00am in the morning have had more enjoyment in their work than that girl. A smile doesn't cost anything.

Then the screen came down and we were in darkness again.

Tim squatted down and groped on the floor between my legs. I freaked out. Was he in the throes of some kind of wierd-arsed sexual self-gratificiation after his first live encounter with hetrosexual self-pleasure? Was he so aroused that he could no longer contain himself? Should I leave him alone for a minute or two?

No, he'd dropped one of the coins.

Shit, I whispered. Where is it?

I think it went in the bin, he replied.

I reached down to check the bin. It was wet. I screamed as only a woman finding a wet spot in a $2 Peep Show booth can scream. Suddenly, my amusement turned to horror as the reality of the situation dawned on me. The booth was a sperm-splattered cavern, closing in around me.

Tim kept rumaging on the floor for our coin, while I slapped him around. Don't worry about the money, Tim. Slap, slap. We don't need it that much. Slap, slap. Let's just get out of this sperm hole. Slap, slap.

Then he found the coin. We decided we may as well use up the last $4 and put it in the slot, while I tried to stand well clear of the walls and not touch anything.

The screen disappeared again, and the girl was doing more of the same. Legs up, legs down, legs up, legs down. It was like watching Aerobics Oz Style almost.

The screen lowered again and it was time to go.

We ran out onto the street then Tim looked at me. Well we can cross that one off our "to-do" list.

2 comments:

  1. I am sure you have read... I was one of those "one person per booth monitors" and when I got down to the bit about reaching into the bin I instinctively winced knowing full well you got a hand full of man milk. :( I hope you sanitized with rubbing alcohol after that ordeal. But hey, one less thing you gotta worry about off that bucket list right? Makes for a funny story too.

    ReplyDelete
  2. I always wonder about the women who work there. It must get very boring very quickly.

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