Horizontal Lives

True Tales of the Infamous Courtesan: Persephone N. Hades and her Horizontal Life underground. How she got there, her mis-adventures and her struggle to re-surface.

Monday, October 25, 2004

"I feel like a million tonight--but one at a time..." Mae West

I am starring at the foyer ceiling, and all that comes into my head is: 11,467. That's what I thought it must be at first.

A year ago, after 20 years hard labor, I bought my 1st home--a 2 and a 1/2 bedroom condo in the (don't laugh, but yes:)Meat Packing district in Manhattan. (Yes, my tongue is in my cheek.)

1600 square feet, (in Manhattan-eze: Huge!), of raw space in desperate need of plumbing, painting, electrical lines and love, now stuffed to it's lovely Cathedral ceilings with a mountain of unpacked boxes, ladders, tools and dust.

11,467. That astounded even me. I'm dyslexic so numbers tend to allude me. so I re-did the math and realized it was more probably, more approximately 1,467. I bet I'm even close. That's about how many it took to own that part of this house, that foyer ceiling. My foyer ceiling. That ceiling is mine. I earned it. Blue-collar style.

This floor, this hardwood floor and these walls that enclose me, and this door that I own the key to, well, if I do the math, over 28,600 hours for the down payment alone. 28,600 hours horizontally with partial vertical arrangements here and there. That's alot of naked penises (and a few vaginas thrown into the mix.) I never thought of it that way before.

Don't get me wrong. I knew it was about sex too. But when I was doing it, when I was living it, it was an art form, and always about love.

The hours given, the emotions spent, the dreams killed along the way, the permanent love I don't have vs. the temporal love I do, the money religiously saved, the Prada bags I passed on year after year, all materialize around me in the form of this embracing home.

At this moment, however, all I can see are numbers.

1,467 blowjobs for just that section alone.


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