Recently, I was sitting around with pals at a coffee shop in the East Village talking about sex.
Yes, what else is new.
We were discussing some of the odd lengths we go to to find the perfect orgasm on the ultimate island of lost souls.
Everyone agreed that I had the best story: I travel all the way up to Harlem to have so-so sex with a so-so man because he always plays the most amazing music.
Let me explain:
This man is a DJ with the best collection of early to mid- 1970s black disco - you know, the stuff that Larry Levin played at the infamous Garage on Varick Street. I mean, none of that cheesy pop disco like YMCA or Ring My Bell, this is disco soul with a beat to fuck to. Unfortunately, this man's sex beat is rather boring and predictable, but I get to groove along to some of the best music in the world.
One of my friends commented that I could move on if I just asked him to burn me a few CDs - now that is something worth thinking about.