SEXIS WRONG

Jill: No.
Me: Why not?
Jill: I don’t know. I wasn’t ballsy enough, most likely.
Me: Would you have had the balls to make the first move
if the situation presented itself?
Jill: Probably. I’ve done it with men before.
At this point our mother walks into the room. Jill and I stop
talking and look at Mom while she hovers near the doorway
and fiddles with something on the table.
A year later Mom was manning the
merch table at my New York reading,
selling smut, lube, and panties.
I look over to the door and there she is, fiddling with whatever
the hell she was fiddling with on the table before.
Me: Mom, what do you want?
Mom: Nothing.
Me: Mom, would you get out? We’re trying to have an
interview!
Mom: I will! I just want to know what this is.
She holds up a little plastic box with a hole in it.
Me: It’s a pencil sharpener. Now get lost.
But she just stands there holding the damn
thing. I look at Jill, who shrugs. Then it occurs
to me.
Me: Can we help you?
Mom: What are you guys doing?
Me: I’m interviewing Jill for my book.
Mom: Oh.
And she just stands there!
Me: Mom.
Mom: What?
Me: Get out!
And she leaves. Jill and I look at each other with raised eyebrows.
Me: Okay, so what about the experience intrigues you?
Jill: Probably that it’s taboo. And that women are sexy.
Me: Does the thought of eating pussy freak you out?
Jill: Mom’s back.
Me: You want me to interview you, too, don’t you?
Our mother nods her head and puts down the pencil sharpener.
A year later Mom was manning the merch table at my New
York reading, selling smut, lube, and panties, and no doubt
doubling my sales by adding the kitsch value of “I bought
lube from Jen’s mom!”
Needless to say, I feel very blessed. After a while, even my
800-year-old Italian father came around to give me his weary
nod of approval. “I don’t know if you get older and wiser,
or older and just more tired,” he explained. I don’t know either,
but I really do believe that time is a magical thing and
that people have the capability to eventually see the light. My
worry is that we don’t have the kind of time it would take for
the likes of George W. Bush and Mr. Nebraska to grow brains
between their ears, which means all us perverts and freaks
have to be out there together, loud, proud, and unyielding.
Even if it means we make a couple little old ladies blush in
the process.
254 EVERYTHING YOU KNOW ABOUT SEX IS WRONG