A good percentage of the spam cluttering my email inbox are ads for penis enhancements. The rest range from Viagra and porno to baldness and obesity cures. None of them are very sophisticated, since they are aimed at bald fat man with sexual issues. I've had a good sex life. Not this year. I'm living in America and 56 year-old men don't get much action from sexually active women in their 20s, but I wonder if all that would change if I were the reincarnation of John Holmes.
This legend of porno starred in over 2500 XXX films in the 70s.
His penis was legend.
The other night I told a woman at Sub-Mercer I was related to John Holmes.
"Let me see it." Brenda was a PR rep for Chanel. I guessed her age around 38. Her wardrobe cost more than my annual beer expenditure. Her legs were long and her stilettos gave her an unfair height advantage.
"See what?" I was playing dumb. John Holmes wasn't known for his smarts.
"Your cock." Nice girls don't call your penis a cock. Brenda wasn't a nice girl, but she was fun.
"Here?" The bar was two-deep with the famed New York nightlife.
"You want to pay for a room upstairs for privacy?" This was an invitation.
"What about the bathroom?" Rooms at the Mercer Hotel were expensive. The toilet was closer.
"What kind of girl do you think I am?" Her outrage didn't fly at 2am.
"The kind of girl who would want to know John Holmes' cousin."
"Cousin?" Her eyes narrowed as her mind did genetic math. "A brother might mean you have a 10 inch cock, but cousin could mean anything. I'll give it a rain check."
She walked off with a young rocker. She tapped a beer can on her way out the door for my benefit. I wonder if those vacuums really work for enlargement.
Not that it really matters.
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