Another quality page linked to Jim's Pen is Central!
On Sunday, October 4, 1998, just a week after the infamous Folsom Street Fair, fans of public pen ises got to see even more public pen ises -- this time at the Castro Street Fair. Whew!
The weather was fabulous, and the turnout was huge. As you can see, booths ran down the center of Castro Street almost as far as the eye could see -- not to mention along several side streets.
One bar put two bartenders in a corner window and served alcoholic drinks inside and non-alcoholic drinks to passers-by on the street. The guy was really cute (by my standards) -- but he was wearing pants. The gal was bare-breasted, but she had cleverly added some bodypaint to cover her nipples.
You know how the young and fashion-oriented like to wear their jeans low, low, LOW off the waist? So their underwear shows at the top, and they can show off what brand they're wearing? This look is almost out of style, I'd say, judging by what I saw on Castro Street, but then I saw a fellow who made me want to make it popular all over again.
But without the underwear, of course! Don't you agree?
I guess nothing is coming between him and his Calvins, eh?? Let's hope the rest of his generation follows his example.
adventurous fellows stripped and started pseudo-f*cking in a corner
window opening directly over the street. I didn't notice at first,
but everybody else did. A cheer went up, and everyone looked up in
that direction. Aha! The guys in the window put on a pretty good
show, doggie-style, and then they suddenly got embarrassed and walked
back away from the window. I was fumbling with my camera as they were
getting dressed. After some appreciative comments from the crowd, two
of them came back to the window and one dropped to his knees. I think
the whole thing was simulated, but those of us on the street were
certainly stimulated. Thanks, guys!
No one walked around naked the whole time, as far as I saw. However, I myself stripped and put on two sandwich boards -- poster boards -- and walked around advertising this page on my website.
First I took off my shirt. That wasn't controversial; about 1/3 of the guys were half naked, anyway. Then I put the boards over my head.
Then I pulled down my pants. Once they were visible beneath the bottom of the board, I attracted attention, although a couple of people had already begun to read the signs.
For about 90 minutes, I kept up an almost non-stop chatter. "Hey, has anybody got a DICK around here?" I'd shout. "Show me your dick and I'll pay you a dollar!"
Note: The boy in the photo above did not hear any of this; I shut up when kids were nearby.
"Your dick for a dollar! Your dick for a dollar!" Soon I was hoarse, but I didn't care. I was recruiting material for you, the faithful and wonderful patrons of Pen is Central. A small price to pay for your entertainment!
You know the way people are today -- just pretend you don't notice the beggar or the weirdo and move on. Shake your head no and look straight ahead. Well, on Castro Street this produced some wonderful responses.
"Sir," I said as I accosted a likely fellow. "Sir, do you have a dick?"
"No, no thank you," he said, pressing ahead, avoiding my gaze. I don't think he paid attention to what he had said!
"Well, then, does anybody ELSE have a dick?" I asked.
"I do!", said a fellow.
"Wonderful! Show me your dick, let me put it on my web page -- not your face, just your dick -- and I'll pay you a dollar!" I waved my stack of brand new $1 bills.
It took forever to get anyone to drop his trousers. But finally someone did -- a fact for which I will be eternally grateful. I pulled out my digital camera, pointed at the volunteer's crotch, and snapped the shutter. "Excellent!" I said. "Great! You really do have a dick!"
This drew some attention and a chuckle or two. I peeled off a dollar bill and handed it to him. He shook his head no, but I insisted. "A bargain is a bargain, right? There's more where that came from!" He smiled and took his payment.
By this time, people were paying attention. Even those who hadn't seen me pull my pants off wondered what I was wearing underneath, and as photographers realized that I was nude they started stalking me like a deer.
Sometimes I'd oblige them, and lift up my sandwich boards to give them a good view. Sometimes I'd tease them: "Hey, I'd pay you a dollar to let me take a photo of your dick. You want to photograph my dick? Pay me a dollar!" I'd hold my hand out, but no one forked over.
Sigh. No one respects artists these days.
Sometimes I'd hit a dry spell -- 8 or 10 minutes with no takers. "Hey, sir, have you got a dick? Pull your pants down and I'll pay you a buck!" A pair of lesbians walked by. "Hey, I'll even pay you if you don't have a dick!" This usually drew a laugh from women -- although one sour lez scowled in my direction and then asked me what I wanted to be when I "grew up."
Oh, how clever, right? When I grow up? She had her arm around her lover, holding her possessively. They won't last long.
The crowd effect was definitely in operation. I'd get a taker, then 2 or 3 others would follow. Then another dry spell. Cameras were clicking everywhere -- but the photographers were looking nervous and unadventurous, acting as if they didn't want to get involved. Of course, I knew that probably half of the photo folk would grow up and turn into exhibitionists one day; it was just a matter of time. Might as well give them something to think about in the meantime, eh? Show 'em what a real photographer with guts does to entertain the masses -- that was my mission for the day!
"Your dick for a dollar! Your dick for a dollar!" I shouted. "Crisp, new, one-dollar bills fresh off the presses!" I pretended to sign one and blew on it to "dry" the ink.
After 8 or 10 successes, I'd gone hoarse about three times, and a fellow tapped me on the shoulder. Turns out it was a cop.
You are on page C1. Go to page:
Castro: C1 C2 C3 VR
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