When
I was 25, I shared an apartment in Los Angeles
with an old high school friend. We both were
making fairly good money and were able to
enjoy just about everything the City of Angels
had to offer. Until I got laid off. Or quit.
I don’t really remember. Either way,
I was unemployed.
My
roommate worked in the San Fernando Valley
at a post-production facility, where they
edited and duplicated film and video. Okay,
not just film and video, but rather, ‘Adult’
film and video… “Oooooh.”
When I told him I had lost my job, he just
smiled and said, “We can probably use
your help at my office. We’ve got so
much work we can barely stay afloat.”
They’ve
“got so much work they can barely stay...afloat.”
Afloat...
I
suddenly picture a huge white yacht, floating
aimlessly through Caribbean waters...As the
camera zooms in, we begin to notice that the
eight or ten passengers on board seem to be...naked.
And not only are they naked, but for the most
part, they are tanned, very fit, and very
well manicured. A closer look reveals that--yes,
yes, YES! They are having SEX! All of them!
The camera tightens in on the bronzed and
muscular back of a male passenger, his muscles
ebbing and flowing with each calculated movement.
Suddenly we see a woman’s hand enter
the frame, with her flaming red nails clawing
passionately at the man’s skin. The
camera rotates to one side, revealing this
young gorgeous couple, very much in love (of
course) and very much having SEX! She fondles
her breasts with her free hand, her head leaning
back over the stern of the boat. As the wind
blows through his shoulder length brown hair,
he thrusts his manhood deeper and deeper inside
her, when suddenly...
WHAM!
I come to.
“Porn?
Porn-o-gra-phy?” I sheepishly sound
the word out as if it were the first time
I had heard of such a thing...as if. “I
can’t work in porn. It’s not that
I don’t think it’s okay. I mean,
you work in porn and that’s great, man,
that’s great. But I can’t, I mean,
well...you know...it’s porn.”
My
roommate just laughed at me and turned to
walk into the kitchen. “I’ll check
with my boss tomorrow. I’m sure there’s
something for you to do.” He stopped
and turned around, smirking. “You know…something.”
The
following Monday I drove with my roommate
to the Valley. Turns out I was going to work
in porn. My roommate’s boss needed an
editing bay built for a new editor who would
be starting there the following month. So
I was going to build it. The icing on the
cake? I would be paid under the table. Getting
paid under the table in the porn industry?
That’s not the kind of work you write
home to Mom about.
But money is money and tax free money is TAX
FREE MONEY, so I absolutely went for it. It’s
not like I was “acting” in these
films, or directing or fluffing. I was far,
far behind the scenes, way out in a typical
looking warehouse somewhere in the San Fernando
Valley, utilizing my carpentry skills to build
and install an editing bay.
