Behind the airport is a circular clearing of grass surrounded by thick, thorny brush and dense trees. Apollo and I found it one day on one of our epic hikes looking for empty bottles to throw at things that annoyed us. We recognized the clearing as something unique even then, strung out as we were on inhalants and moth ball fumes. This was a time when drugs were hard to come by. I thought, “I will bring a girl here some night to watch the planes fly overhead and we will make out in the tall, soft grass.”
As it turned out, girls were even harder to come by than drugs, so it became our place to hang out. After Apollo and I fell out, for reasons neither of us could or would articulate to the other, Willy took it over.
One day Willy found power lines that led from the giant, diesel-powered electric plant to the airport, itself. He spliced some wires and had power to burn, which of course meant that we would need to build a club house, and stock it with a beer fridge, tv, and computer, which is exactly what we did.
With porn and beer at hand, we both flunked out of high school and turned to lives of crime. One could make a good living selling ripped pornos and CDs, and though it was a hassle, both of us will admit when high that that business venture alone was more responsible than any other factor for leading us into the adult films industry.
Admit it. If you found a video store than not only had all the movies you wanted to see but could also promise to make you whatever other kind of movie you could dream up in your weird, weird head, you would go there first. We were also very affordable and prided ourselves on being “people” people.
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Editor’s note: Technically it is her vulva, not her vagina.