July 8th, 1978
Weeks of impoverished isolation here in the house. A budget of $6 per day hardly allows for lots of entertainment. So, late last night I took a taxi to the Court Jester. I was quickly picked up by a disgustingly fat New Jersey Jew who came on to me very aggressively. That always does it. He was hairy all over and had a swagger and a masculinity that was right up my alley. So I ignored the fact that he had a baby face and rolls of fat. The hair salvaged it.
He took me to his apartment in Bethesda. The type of high rise that suffocates me. We smoked dope and he slobbered all over me. Through it all I kept thinking– well, this is better than another night drunk at home.
Joe was at the bar. Looking like a young god in a cowboy shirt. He came up and spoke to me and then wandered off into the crowd. If I never get what I want, at least I know what it is I’m missing.
Jim, my trick, spent the night growling dirty talk in my ear and spanking me. I found out this morning that he is a criminal lawyer who specializes in child abuse cases.
Isn’t anything better than another night drunk at home?