Here’s the setup:
Scene: Steve’s bedroom. Two chairs face the window, a boy in each chair with binoculars on their eyes. Across the hall, this album plays:
“This should be interesting. She had quite the mini skirt today.”
“Oboy,” I said. “There goes the blouse.”
“yea, it’s “BB Day’– blue bra. Hey, do you think anyone will ever catch you and Allie in that room?”
“I dunno, it’s pretty dark. The Foon would have to come in and find the light switches.”
“Where are they? Whoop, there goes BB.”
“Jeez, she’s built……Um, there’s a whole panel of switches against the back wall.”
“Get some clear tape, put it on the corners. Just enough to stall anyone who tries to open the switch box. Don’t make it obvious”
“OK. I always wonder what she’s dancing around to………..”
“Well, it ain’t Singing in the Rain. Here she goes, gotta get the shoes and tights off…………..Plan your escape route in case you hear that door open.”
“What do you—- Oh God, here we go.”
He changes the album, we sit in quietly watching her while Arthur Lee sings.
“Figure out how you can get the fuck out of there in a hurry as quietly as you can…… If you drool on that shirt, I swear, “I’m throwing you out.”
“I’ll think about that………..Damn, this must be where some of those letters to Playboy come from.”
“Don’t read that shit! It’s all made up. What kind of dick would sit here and watch her then write to some fucking skin magazine about how amazing it was. At least this is better than going through the pictures staring at girls you’d only see in LA.”
“OK. Oop, show’s over, she’s hitting the bed.”
Back in my bedroom, I put the nudie show out of my mind and try to put dry ice on my libido. I’m contemplating ‘exit routes.’ We need protection.