Tag Archives: Science Fiction

The Queen of Erotica

4 Jun

I can no longer go anywhere without running into the self-proclaimed “Queen of Erotica.”  Who happens to be a man.  An allegedly straight man.

The gentleman in question pulled up a stool next to me one night while I was enjoying some crawdad mac and cheese at a bar.  He introduced himself as Adam, but then leaned in closer and added in a lowered voice “but my pen name is Lily Night.”  I wish I could say that he was not the third person who had introduced themselves to me using a pseudonym that week, but sadly that would be a lie.  Adam explained that he had been writing under the name Lily Night because his publisher thought his erotic short stories would be better received if the author were female.  He was bored with the subject matter given to him (middle-aged married couples having their annual beach orgy and so forth) so he had taken it upon himself to begin working on what will be the masterpiece of his career: an erotic saga about krakens.  Adam had even recently spent seventeen days lost at sea in the Caribbean in attempt to emulate the plight of his characters getting shipwrecked in Africa.  Once he finished the novel and leaked it to Gawker (like his erotica forefathers) he would be rich!  His main goal in life, he said with a huge grin, was to own a Dodge Challenger with commercial plates that read “BALLER.”

He finally paused to take a sip of his pink drink and I seized the opportunity to assess the situation.  He was dressed like he had just gotten off the bus from Massachusetts– button-up stripy shirt over a v-neck, some sort of oddly-washed jean, a necklace, and a chunky watch, which he kept flipping open and shut on his wrist while intermittently thumbing his exposed chest hair.  There was also a peculiar pair of sunglasses dangling from his deep-v that looked like they were stolen from a member of the Three Blind Mice.

“Is there really a market for a book about krakens who probe each other with their tentacles?” I asked him, picturing a nerdy teen with braces pulling out kraken porn from under his mattress.  “You don’t understand” Adam explained, downing a shot of raspberry vodka, a third of which missed its target and trickled down his chin and through his chest hair.  “The krakens aren’t having sex with each other.  They’re capsizing pirate ships, wreaking general havoc, and having their way with all the women.  The main character starts out as a juvenile kraken, only about fifteen feet long, but as the story goes on, the tentacles grow longer and longer until it can violate multiple women at once.  I’m not only telling a story here, I’m challenging science to prove me wrong!”  Sounds like we’ve got a real hit on our hands.

He added that his overwhelming success will be a nice slap in the face to his girlfriend of seven years who had recently dumped him.  “Wait a minute, you aren’t gay?!” I couldn’t help but blurt out.  I don’t know, maybe it was the way he spoke, the pink drinks, the jewelry, or the fact that he goes around referring to himself as the QUEEN OF EROTICA.  He looked offended and scoffed “gay men don’t write novels about women being raped by tentacle monsters.  They write about men being raped by tentacle monsters.”  I was finished with my crawdad mac and cheese.  He continued that for my information, he was currently dating three 22-year-old Asian girls he had curated from OKCupid.  In addition to seeming a little light in his Steve Madden loafers, he was obviously pretty immature.  He kept mentioning the appeal of being seen as a “tortured writer” and how he drinks as much as he can every night so he can obtain that image.  I haven’t heard someone glorify drinking that much since a group of naughty eighth graders passed me a beer on the playground in middle school.

I told Adam that the time had come for me to bid him farewell but he ignored me, saying “I’m a very ambitious person.  I have to finish three films, six erotica stories, and write the first great contemporary New York novel of our time before I turn thirty-two and there aren’t enough hours in the day.  Do you know anyone who will sell me Adderall?”  Despite the fact that I am not a drug dealer, he said he still hoped we would see each other again soon and I replied “me, too!” thinking the opposite.

Little did I know that I would run into Adam every time I went out in my neighborhood until the end of time.  I’ve mostly taken to pretending I don’t see him, but every once in awhile he will come over and show me the profile of the latest hot 22-year-old he is talking to online.  At least it’s good to know that there is still such a high caliber of men on OKCupid.

Advertisements