Slaves of New York

Начало книги

This Book Is for Phyllis, Lillian, Gwyneth, Anne, Julian, Joellen, Mary, Paige, Andy, Gael, Wendy, Caroline, Sam, Peter, Lizzie, Betty, Laura, David G., Ronnie, David J., Cynthia, Steve, Patrick, Agustin, Michael, Lulu and Beep-beep.

After I became a prostitute, I had to deal with penises of every imaginable shape and size. Some large, others quite shriveled and pendulous of testicle. Some blue-veined and reeking of Stilton, some miserly. Some crabbed, enchanted, dusted with pearls like the great minarets of the Taj Mahal, jesting penises, ringed as the tail of a raccoon, fervent, crested, impossible to live with, marigold-scented. More and more I became grateful I didn't have to own one of these appendages.

Of course I had a pimp; he wasn't an ordinary sort of person but had been a double Ph.D. candidate in philosophy and American literature at the University of Massachusetts. When we first became friends he was driving a taxicab, but soon found this left him little time for his own work, which was to write.

Читать дальше →