ON TIME

Our bodies are a clock.

Right here and now, always.

Time is proportion, time is scale, timing is everything.

Time passes. The MC is on the mic, gentlemen. And you are coming up next on table 5.

Coming up.

You are sooo beautiful.

Markers. of time.

Necessary and inevitable.

Day girls. Night girls. Daily Life. Night Life. Deep sea diving in the nightlife. 2920 24 hour turns of subterreanean adventure. 8 years in the half-light. 3 am eternal. A constant light state of timelessness.

Free time.

Seconds. Minutes. Hours. Days. Weeks. Months. Years.

Markers.

Plotting out the distance between you and the thresholds that you’ve crossed. The borderlines you’ve tumbled over. The impossibility of undoing what has been done.

There was a time when you’d never been to the strippers, but now you have. There was a time when you’d never been a stripper, but now you have.

Markers.

The money made. The money spent.

Blink and you’ll miss it.

Is the precise moment at which you cross a line actually visible somewhere?

Markers.

On the skin.

Is there a stain? A stink? A stench? Some kind of indelible mark that gives away your transgressions? A scarlet letter. A ledger. A damn spot. Years later. Even now. Forever. Your permanent record. A mark on your permanent record.

How do you account for the time you’ve spent?

Spending time.

Where is this on your CV?

How do you fill in the gaps? How do you get away with it?

Conspicuous absences. Missing references.

People with nothing to hide have nothing to worry about.

High horse hideout. Low life wipeout.

Is it possible that nothing can ever really be a waste of time?

Does this all actually depend purely on how you tell it?

Or what it was?

Or who you are telling.

Edits. Jump cuts. Dissolves.

A 3 minute dance. A 5 minute dance. A 10 minute dance. H ow much for a whole hour? How much for the night? How much to fuck? Is that it? Is that all there is? Is this your only job? When are you back in town? When is your next table? When did you start? When do you finish? How long is too long? How soon is now? Where does it end? How long have you been doing this? You’re too thin. You’re too fat. Your tits are too small. Your ass is too big. Your ass is too small. Your tits are too big. Are they real? How much did those cost you? Who paid for that? Do you have a boyfriend? No one likes a fuckin smart ass sweetheart.

You love it.

And you do.

Mostly.

The MC is on the mic, fellas. And you are coming up next on table 8. Coming up. You are so beautiful.

Black markets.

Underworld. Bargain basement. Wanna bes. Coulda bins. Real deals. Big time. Small time. Doing time. Clocking off. Timing out. You’re still here. ‘You’re still here.’ Sometimes…

Right after the moment when you’ve taken off your g-string and bent over in a guy’s face, he will say…pretty much directly to your vagina…so what are you studying? To remind you that this had better be worth it for you, for both of you, in this complex system of accounting. This spending of time. And what is worth anyway? And because, if he surrenders to your pussy right there then perhaps…what? he will be lost? to what? To all time? To violence? To desire? To maternity? Paternity? An eternity? To an interruption in the planned schedule? To a delay? To a radical shift in personal goals?

Will time itself…change shape. And collide

with something ancient.

Something wilfully forgotten.

Out of sight, out of mind.

In search of lost time.

Deep sea diving.

Speeding up and slowing down. Amphetamine reptile. Fast. Faster. Fastest. Too fast. Too soon. Seconds taking hours. Hours compressing into moments. How many hours and days can you stay awake? How many hours and days were lost? You can’t dance without a watch.

As in,

you actually can’t strip without a watch.

Time is proportion.

Time is scale.

Timing is everything.

And everything is on the clock.

The MC is on the mic, gentlemen. and you are coming up next on table 4. Coming Up. You are so beautiful.

Markers.

The watch I marked this time with was given to me by a customer. He gave me 20 dollars and said, go into the big department store in the city and put this deposit on the watch that you like best. Give them any name you like, darling. Make up your number. Just do what you have to do and then bring me the receipt here in the club…and I’ll go and pick it up. Then you won’t have to meet me outside of here. Ever. It can all happen in here. In the club. 3 am eternal. And so, a few nights later, he brought you your watch. A gift which marked the worth of investing in you as a permanent fixture in this club. A gift to help us prove ourselves, our worth, our value, our commitment to this time. A gift of understanding what pragmatism is really all about.

Making good use of one’s time.

Clearly he had done this before.

It was a rite of passage.

For all of us.

Timing is everything.

 

 

By Melanie Jame Wolf

 

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