Politics: Neon, Sex & Drugs
I got into politics once. I mean I got into a political campaign from start to finish. In Boise Idaho. Yeah? It is not as small as you think. At the time, metro population was around a half million and Boise proper was 160K. This was almost 40 years ago.
I was on my 'starter marriage'. Well enough 'into it' that both of us were very much interested in 'swinging'. Boise wasn't as small as you might think then, but it was small enough that it had never ever seen a XXX bookstore. One opened after much protest. We went 'shopping'.
At the front of the store was a bulletin board with 'ads'. There were a few 'suggestive ads' but nothing substantially up to my standards - sounded like a bunch of old geezers. I inquired of the the 'lady' behind the counter about this. I hesitantly leaned across a well-lit glass counter filled with dildos and vibrators to do so
She was truly what comes to mind when 'buxom' comes to mind. Just a bit older than us. She said they had a 'special' listing of such behind the counter - so as to not get anyone in trouble. Trouble was an issue because the city fathers had been trying to get rid of that bookstore since before it opened.
She gave us a couple of phone numbers, including her own. To tell you the truth, she was so well endowed and blaise, she scared me. So my wife and I visited several others before winding up there. With her and her husband. Being married is very important when swinging.
Turns out her husband grew up on the south side of Chicago during the Depression, smoked grass at 12, got out of Joliet before he was 30 and had been a pimp since. Do the math. He was a very cool dude. And his stable lived downstairs in a huge basement apartment and spent all their off time upstairs in their nighties.
His wife, the buxom human unit, oversaw all the girls and kept them in line like a drill sargeant. She also cooked and cleaned house like any other 'housewife'. The old man sat in his easy chair and took it all in. He had a nephew who hung out there. But not too much because that environment would drive any man insane.
Morgan was his name. I remember that much. He was closer to my age. Just moved to Boise from Chicago. Wanted to make a name for himself. Partying never got in the way of that, with him. Morgan got into the mayoral campaign of a local news broadcaster who was beloved.
I spent a lot of time over at that house for obvious reasons, and in our stoned out conversations, Morgan got me fired up about this campaign. Not because the guy was worth a shit - because there'd be juice at the end. I was a hick. I hadn't even been to New York City yet. I bit.
I walked the streets and knocked on doors. I helped plant signs. I stood outside stores and took down names. I called all my friends and asked them to help. I went to meetings. My wife? Who knows? I was attending meetings. Of course, after the meeting, Morgan and I would wind up at his Uncle's house.
After all that - I think it lasted about 4 months (I have no way of knowing for sure due to pharmacalogically induced long and short term memory loss) - it was ELECTION DAY. The candidate rented a suite at the local Rodeway Inn. Had a fireplace and everything! I was impressed. The press was there. The 'girls' weren't.
He lost. The moral of this story is this. I met a dope-smoking pimp, who had a very shady nephew, in a whorehouse filled with hookers, who steered me into participating in politics ... which I did for purely prurient reasons. Be sure and vote next Tuesday - the future depends on it.
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