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"Show us your dick!"

Jim's Castro Street Fair Page -- Page 2

By this time, I was attracting a fair amount of attention. Even people 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.

"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.

The Cop

San Francisco cops are a unique breed. This one had been standing with three of his buddies, quietly, off to the side. I'm pretty sure they hadn't seen anyone doing anything like I was doing before. So they watched to see what I was up to.

The cop said that since I was naked under the sign, it might be possible for someone to lodge a complaint, easpecially if there were children around. Plus, what I was asking people to do, eh? Maybe I'd like to cover up, or be a little more quiet, or move to a side street and avoid flashing in front of kids (not that I'd actually done that, but... well, you know).

My throat was dry. I pointed out that I wasn't naked; I was wearing the sign boards, and that and although I was naked underneath, so was everyone around us. Even he was naked under his clothes! He patiently went over what he'd just said. He wasn't threatening to arrest me; he was kindly informing me that he'd have to arrest me if someone complained (that lesbian? -- I wondered), and was just being friendly, informing me of the possibility.

You know, you try to be rebellious. You try to make a mark on the world. You try to provoke some sort of response. You work hard, you try to get The Authorities to sit up, take notice, and repress your freedom of expression. And then something like this happens. What's a poor revolutionary to do? Sheesh!

The Retreat

My voice was gone. The cop was cute and polite. It was time for my nap and I was very tired. So I put on my thong underwear and wandered off to find a side street. Fellow revolutionaries, will you forgive me?

Along the way, I had a close encounter of the non-commercial kind with a fellow who had added a condom as a pen is to an E.T. doll.

I found a secluded corner and took off the sandwich boards. Then (ugh!) I put on my pants.

That bartender was still at it, cute as ever, along with his female co-worker. I decided against asking him to strip for a dollar.

Then, what -- to my wondering eyes -- should appear, but...

...a miniature sleigh and eight tiny reindeer?

No. A small circle forming around a guy whose mouth was open, pointed toward the sky, and who soon dropped to his knees. Huh? People were taking photos of him, too.

A moment's examination showed the cause of the ruckus. Hanging overhead was a brown dildo on a string. Someone overhead was dangling it down near the passersby. This fellow was trying to get it in his mouth without using his hands.

As I watched, the game became clearer. He was working for beads -- beads on necklaces, like those thrown out by the crowd during Mardi Gras. There were guys standing on a balcony one floor up who had huge wads of bead necklaces, and if you could get the dildo in your mouth (no hands!), you got some beads showered down on you. A worthy reward for your demonstrated oral skills, eh? And not even a comment about Monica Lewinsky!

Show us your dick!

And then my prayers were answered. It seems that I had stumbled onto the other group of guys, all about as mentally defective as myself, who were willing to reward men for showing off their dicks. These guys -- apparently from a gay motorcycle or leather club called "Constantines" -- were showering down necklaces not only on the dildo-suchers, but also on anyone who would drop his pants and show off his dick. Even women got rewarded -- for flashing their breasts.

And a moment later, someone obliged.

Hot damn! Safety in numbers!! No cop would arrest us if there were a bunch of us!!! Complaining lesbanians and others would keep their mouths shut, too. Wonderful!

I pulled out my wad of bills and handed one to the newly necklaced exhibitionist. I slipped my boards back on and got ready to reward people with bills in addition to the beads. Not only was there safety in numbers, but the crowd gathered in a circle encouraged a higher percentage of passers-by to take advantage of the situation.

The guys overhead figured out what I was doing quickly enough and had no complaints. Dick after dick after dick appeared:

... and so on and on and on until I was all out of money!

It was getting late. The sun was setting. The street was jammed because the weather had been so wonderful. And I could barely tear myself away even after my bills were gone!

But eventually I did. And by clicking below, dear reader, you can move to the page where you can see all the dicks I saw that day.