Sally, my dead ex-wife, owned a pornography-jacket. This was a jacket that Sally wore only when we were making pornography. It’s my understanding that not everyone who makes pornography wears a pornography-jacket, but my dead ex-wife did.
I guess she was just old-fashioned that way.
Years after Sally died I agreed to go on a blind-date organised by one of my friends. I had become a solitary figure, resigned to my lonesome fate. I really didn’t want to go and meet this lady, but I was far too polite to tell them to call it off.
I was the first to arrive at the restaurant. Ruth arrived shortly after. My heart skipped a beat when a stunning lady entered the room, a woman I’d never seen before, wearing my dead ex-wife’s pornography-jacket! I suddenly had so many questions. What was she doing wearing my dead ex-wife’s pornography-jacket? Where did she get it from? Sally died shortly after we divorced and I was at a complete loss as to how it came into this stranger’s possession.
In retrospect I could have just asked where she got her jacket without inserting the word “pornography” into the conversation, because let’s be honest, one woman’s pornography-jacket may be another woman’s business jacket. But at the time, it simply didn’t occur to me. I wasn’t thinking straight, my mind was racing, and quite a lot of emotions were flowing through my body.
It was definitely the same jacket. A lot of people have suggested that it may have just looked like my dead ex-wife’s pornography-jacket. They would say that it was a trick of the mind, that it was obviously not the same jacket. But it had all the tell-tale characteristics, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to sit here and listen to people say it only looked like the same pornography-jacket.
The sight of it brought back some powerful memories, and I can’t explain how or why, but it wasn’t more than thirty minutes into our evening that we were making pornography together. I don’t know if it was the jacket, but certain actions and techniques of this beautiful lady, certain signature moves of my dead ex-wife, just the way she did her thing, pornography-wise, were identical.
Whether she was cosmically inspired, or directly channelling my dead ex-wife, I cannot say. Perhaps there was pornographic-energy still residing in the jacket that led to such an intense, almost instantaneous recorded union. But it was cosmic, and very inspiring. After the mind-melting lust-crescendo, we collapsed and slept for hours. When I awoke, she was gone. All that was left was her memory, the tapes, and our signed performers’ contracts.
I had been very much in love with my ex-wife, and I still deeply, deeply miss her. This felt like our one final proper farewell. We were just incompatible in too many other areas. Even after we were divorced we continued to make pornography. From a time management point of view I don’t think we could have fit any more pornography into that period of time, without it really becoming silly. We weren’t to know that she was going to die. It’s not as if she was constantly saying “Hurry up, I’m going to die, so let’s make a lot of pornography together.”
Any more pornography, and it would have begun to encroach on our sleep. Plus it was football season. Life is about balance, and you can’t run around making pornography twenty-four hours a day. I don’t know how you live, I’m certainly not judging, but I just don’t know how you could do it. Not without it having a detrimental impact on the other important areas of your life.
I don’t know much, but I like to think I know that.