Today I woke up with an erection (not so unusual; i have a farrah fawcett latch-hook rug displayed on my ceiling above my bed) and it has persisted all day. I can’t get it to relax, no matter how many times I punch it with my fists or slam it in my office door. Yes, It’s spring in New York City today.
If you don’t live here, where the loveliest men and women on earth come to nest, you might have difficulty fully comprehending this all-consuming sensation. Perhaps where you live spring weather simply means more parked cars with Tasmanian Devil sun visors propped up in the windshield. Maybe it means the soccer moms are hornier. Or maybe it’s springtime every single day, and you’re a huge jerk. I don’t know how you roll. But here’s how we do it:
Imagine one day waking up to find that everyone you’ve been sharing a bus/subway/train with, everyone you’ve barely acknowledged on a daily basis, is suddenly the most gorgeous, sexually desirable creature you’ve ever seen. They’re 25 pounds lighter than you’d remembered. Women wear their hair animal-hot and let it curl at the ends like beckoning fingers. Guys have melted off their carb faces. Grey, bland complexions are flushed with curiosity. And everyone seems to be wearing the same expression – the one that says, “ask me about my uncontrollable libido.” In New York City, there is a name for this unusual phsyiological phenomenon. It’s called “86 Degrees Farenheit.” Excuse me while I smash my genitals with a phone receiver.
p.s. Last night, on the soft eve of this beautiful weather, I was buying produce at my favorite – i.e. most conveniently located – Korean grocer. I struck up a conversation with the cashier as he scanned my baby carrots and weighed my fudge (4.5 pounds). Suddenly, after several minutes of complaining about his sore hands, he announced, “maybe it’s because of all this Nature’s Beauty that my hand is hurting.” (his english – not the best. just like mines.) I looked puzzled, sort of the way a dog looks after the ‘disappearing treat’ trick, so he elaborated.
“Nature’s beauty. You know. All these pretty girls.”
“Ah.” I concurred politely and silently, by making the split-finger gesture over my open mouth and flicking tongue.
Then he added, “You so lucky to live here in Park Slope. In Queens – nothing.”
Hey, Queens – our heavily politicized lesbians are sexier than your Greek Orthodox senior citizens. Eat it, QB!!
