This is my story. Long, but true.

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As a young lad I often found myself desperate for porn. Very desperate. I needed porn like a small Africans needed rice. Rock royalty could’ve written charitable songs on my behalf or held fund raisers. Something, anything. Mind you, this is mid-eighties, pre-internet America and shit was hard to come by. Having an absentee father (the Penthouses and Hustlers left when he did) I was stuck. At points I felt like I was ready to pop like a semen infested zit. Alone with only my Vans, Levis, OP shirt and Mongoose, I left the nest in pursuit of naughty gold.
One day I cruised over to the local donut shop on the corner of Sepulveda and Parthenia. The donut shop was located in a shopping center that housed a Lucky’s supermarket, mom and pop pharmacy, small bookstore operated by an elderly Polish man and his mail order bride form the Philippines, a Laundromat that was strictly off-limits to all non-Latinos, barber shop and video store. The video store was also owned by the man that operated the donut shop. His name was Favre something or other and so were the stores he ran (add the appropriate type of business to the end of his lat name). He was fat, gray, European and angry.
At the time I was already quite out of place being white, young and perverted. The demographics of the time foretold the San Fernando Valley as we see it today and I was a sapling begging to be transplanted. Regardless, it was home and I needed whacking pictures.
I went to the donut shop and bought a large coke and apple fritter. I played four quarters in Mr. Do. I lost. However, I was not there to play video games, I was there to find a release. I had little money and no real maturity to speak of, so street workers - though plentiful in the area - were out of the question. The bookstore was my best bet.
I strolled in and walked directly to the Archie comic section. I checked them out, acted interested while I thumbed through them, but the whole time I was checking out the nudie mags roughly twelve or so feet away. My eyes gazed them from a distance like a hunter targeting a small, helpless animal. I picked up a copy of Jughead and braved forward. I slowly made my way over, passing the gun magazines, boring stereo review journals and always amusing tabloids. Each step was one closer to the promised land.
I Eventually found myself in paradise. My own Mecca. Clutching the opened Archie comic with my two hands I was still under the impression that I had everybody fooled pretending to be reading the fucking cartoon rag while I’m secretly feasting my eyes on the covers of some truly holy books. Gent, Oui, Hustler, Chic, Juggs, I saw them all. The teasing front covers alone were enough to make me sweat. Could I swipe one? Could I get close enough to one to open it and read it for one minute? Scan enough imagery to brain to last a few days? I can only try….
Oh, did I mention that the adult mags were only 18 inches away from the always manned front counter? The counter was elevated at least 3 feet giving the not-so-stupid Polish bookstore owner an opportunity to see all. This time it was the bride in a box running the show. “Hey, you like the comic or the grown up books?” she asks. I never knew her name, nor cared to. She was tall (though everyone is when you’re young), slender and very foreign looking to me. God made a joke of her by putting a noticeable mole near the tip of her nose that looks like a fly hell bent on giving her lifelong annoyance. Despite this flaw of hers she made me hard.
I looked up at her and said, “I like the naughty books and I like you.” I was beyond nervous and piss was ready to spring from me like a fire hydrant that’s been let loose in a ghetto street celebration. She walked to the edge of the counter in front of the steps, just inches from me. Her body was exposed to me in all of its imported glory, her hip nearly eye level to me. In one swift desperate motion I dropped the comic, reached my hand out and felt up her calf all the way up to her peanut butter colored knee. I was really hoping she would accept this as a wonderful compliment and opportunity to maybe walk me to the back of the store and teach me the secret love techniques from the far east.
I was wrong. My actions were not appreciated. Not one bit.
She screamed and pushed me away as if I were a syphilis infected rat. Her ancient Polish lover sprang to the front of the store. He asked what was going on. I was frozen and speechless. She was incoherent and in a near tantrum. The elderly man had no idea as to what was happening but swiftly found a solution. He placed one hand on the top of my head grabbing as much hair as possible and another on my back belt buckle. He lifted me all at once causing me to yelp like a puppy. He carried me to the front door in a hurried fashion as if I were a cheap trash bag ready to break. He kicked the front door open with his right foot and out I went. I landed belly first leaving all hopes of paper vagina behind. I was crushed and ready for Nintendo and Sears catalog whacking. Then suddenly I saw a middle-aged terrible looking woman of Latin origins walk by. She had huge hippo tits and I was once again consumed. I was re-energized and ready to dig for X rated treasure.
Having only a bicycle and needing to be home before the street lights were on, I was desperate for time. I ran into the video store desperate for a morsel of tit. The video store was well lit, narrow in design, fully stocked and empty of patrons. They had a nice adult film section in the back corner that I had cased out a few weeks ago. I would stand near the comedy section and peruse boxes while peeping in the ’X Zone’ whenever perverts would walk in and out. The best part is that it’s not only out of customers sight, but out of sight from the front counter as well. The only problem is that the entrance is guarded by an ugly sign and two noisy shutter doors. In order to get into my wanking kingdom, I’d have to sneak under the doors and not make a peep. Once I gained entry I figured I could swipe a few boxes and take them home. I was like a drug addicted jazz musician looking for a fix and I found it. I was going to go for it come hell or high water.
The shop had one girl working that looked like a stoned junior college student. She barely noticed my dumb ass as I walked in. Shitty trailers played on a monitor behind her. I briefly watched one for a Vietnam movie called Hamburger Hill. All the videos were kept in safe keeping with her behind the counter, so she could easily afford to pay me no attention.
Like the bookstore fiasco, I was a man without a plan. I figured that maybe the same approach would work again though this was based on the fact that there were no other options my limited intelligence could come up with. I also decided that groping a woman would be out of the question.
I walked over to the comedy section and picked up a box for the movie Popeye starring Shelly Duval and Robin Williams. I had seen the film and hated it. I glance over at the counter girl whose on the phone gabbing away looking out the window and waiting for the shift to end at her pathetic job. I take this as an opportunity to move. “Surely she’s forgotten about me” I convince myself. Like a two day trained Ninja, I make slow, retarded baby steps to the ever intimidating swing doors. Clutching the Popeye box like it’s a teddy bear, I quickly bend down and roll under.
BOO-YA! I made it. I was so excited my eyes couldn’t focus. It was like coming off of magic fucking mushrooms and I needed to get balanced. After a couple of moments I regained clarity. Finally, all I could see were boxes and tits and more boxes and even more tits and they were all mine. It was the closest I ever was to heaven at that point in my life. All the world was at peace and I was at one with myself. For a moment I was so elated I thought I could levitate. I put fucking Popeye to the side for a moment and tried to take the moment in.
With a deep breath I begin looking through the various boxes. I see Ebony Ayes, Marylyn Chambers and a whole host of women in the flesh (well, close enough). I turned a box around and nearly passed out from the visual displays. I swelled.
Suddenly I hear voices coming from the front of the store. “Yeah, I got new releases for you to put up.” Shit. I know that voice, it’s the owner. Mr. Favre or whatever the hell his name is. No way I can get out of here with a box, let alone two. Scared, randy and totally amped on adrenaline all at once I decide to try and take it easy and just hang for a while. I calm down and stand still.
I take a breath and keep looking at boxes. Bad Move. The boxes pump me up again. I continue to hear voices from the front of the store. What do I do? The stupidest thing ever.
I decide that with the store free of customers and the owner and his counter wench fully anchored up front, I could maybe find instant relief in the room amongst the boxes. My heart starts beating like the guy in Midnight Express. ‘Boom Boom Boom!’ I get to work. I’m sweating like a pig and nearing heart attack pulse rates. I’m scanning boxes and attempting to make vigorous love to myself all at once. After a while I lose track of time and find myself checking out shitloads of boxes. I’m a man and this is my castle.
Again, I hear a voice. The problem is that I know it’s closer now. Too close. “I’ll put these movies in the back,” the bastard boss utters. No time now. So close, yet so far away. I cease my self love and zip up my britches.
The doors of hell open. “What are you doing here??” The owner shouts. I pick up the Popeye box. “What the hell is wrong with you?” he shouts. I’m covered with sweat and my shirt has actual sweat stains visible. I’m shaking and my hair soaked. I tell him I’m looking for the movie Gremlins. He screams using words only understandable from wherever he’s from. He speaks again. This time though it isn’t even human. It’s like he’s trying to talk to me underwater. “A bluh bluh bool!” he shouts. “Flooo blol pul!” He continues. However, it’s not him that’s talking jibbersih. It’s me hearing it. I’m near delusional, the room spins and I finally pass out.
I snap out of it and find myself on the floor with the Popeye box on my chest. Understanding him clearly now, he asks me if I’m ok and need anything. I tell him all is well and I want nothing.
He picks me up by my hair and belt buckle. I’m thrown outside like yesterdays news.
I go home loopy and limp.

He's a journalist, a critic, a film maker, a poet, and now a best selling author!. You should title this Portrait of the Artist as a Young Pervert !! The reminiscences of an older and wiser man looking back on the rich, formative expreiences of his youth with an ironic detachment that illustrates the comic, yet poignant dialectical tension between the closed microcosm of adolescent sexual repression and the openness of a modern, sick, and out-and-out perverted world populated by the likes of guys named Jeff Stewart.

I laughed, I cried, I soiled my trousers. I see a film version starring the fuck who played the kid on The Wonder Years. Ed Asner as the Polish shopkeeper. The Olsen Twins make a cameo!! A holiday film!! Bring the whole family!! Directed by Khan Tusion, of course.
Can anybody say....... NOBEL PRIZE ?

Bravo Owen, it made me recall the days of my youth in the early 80's when I would venture into the tiny whole in the wall magazine stand in my tiny home town in Pennsylvania and sit my school books on top of porn mags, then would go play a pinball machine, pick up my books (with an extra underneath of course) and head home with it.
Funny thing is, later in life my Dad told me that the store owner had contacted him and made him pay for the countless mags that I took. LOL

Great story. I would tell you guys my story, but you guys wouldn't believe it. Anyways, I had a P.K. Ripper bike as a kid and played Moon Patrol, Tempest, Galaga, and Dragon's Lair.

I loved Donkey Kong. It was my first Coloeco Vision game too.

I turn 30 in Feb.

ATARI RULES!!!
I still have mine with most of the games too.
Asteroids was my game could play for hours.

Feel Good,
You're a depraved maniac like the rest of us. This board is truly riddled with troubled soules - yours included.
Donkey Kong was the best game ever. I used to cry my eyes out when the older black kids would take my quarters at the donut shop.
I liked Donkey Kong jr. too.

Being the old fart I am I was really into pinball (8 Ball) until Space Invaders hit the scene.As I recall that was the first real video game.To this day I still spend at least 4 or 5 hours a week playing assorted video games.

I am 38, the first video game system that my Dad bought me was Pong!
Then Atari 2600, then up from there. lol

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I turn 30 in Feb.

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You guys are young punks!! I used to play Donkey Kong and PacMan in bars!! yes, bars when I was 18 circa 1982, before you could even get it at home. Holy shit, I feel pathetic. Fortunately my lack of emotional immaturity makes up for my lack of youth.

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What a great story,Owen! I think a lot of us had similar experiences trying to score porno when we were young.

Anyone remember ColecoVision?

I do that was like my 1st computer

ColecoVision was the best. It was the dogs balls when it was unleashed. The graphics were top flight. I remeber a system I had before that called Odyssey. Anybody remeber that one??
Also, who had ON TV? How about Select TV? Rmember the knob that you would switch to get premium programming? Ahhh, the old days......

My cousin had Intellivision and I vividly remember playing blackjack on that with him and kicking his ass. The little dealer guy on the screen was the best.

There was also the Z Channel,Atari 5200,Zaxxon,Dig Dug etc.One of my personal favorites was Mattel's Hand Held Electronic Football.Anyone remember it?
www.exquisitemenu.com

I do remember the handheld football game, they re-released them last Christmas and I bought one. lol
I also had basketball and baseball when they came out way back when.

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There was also the Z Channel,Atari 5200,Zaxxon,Dig Dug etc.One of my personal favorites was Mattel's Hand Held Electronic Football.Anyone remember it?
www.exquisitemenu.com

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Hola,
Anybody remember old school Playboy TV? In the very early days it would only start at night (like 11 P.M.). Shortly after, it moved to a start time of 5:00 PM. They used to run a program on it called Electric Blue. It was really kick ass for the time. The show would have all kinds of segments and most of the shit was edited hardcore. I used to go ape shit with it!
Sadly, I used to go ape shit with the PPV Playboy option as well. In days of deep perversion I remeber racking up an all too noticeable cable bill. My mom would freak and I'd deny everything.
I couldn't help it, porn was a push of the button away and I was a young man desperate for a glimpse of televised vagina.
Finally, I pose a question to all of you: were you looking forward to your 21st bithday because you could go to a bar or because you could go to any XXX shop on our beloved planet?
Guess which one I was looking forward to.
Soberly Yours,
Owen S. Mouth