Henry shocked last week after posting a new story, Beware of the Ides of March, only 26 hits, his previous stories averaging 150 hits.
His readers apparently bored with his stories, all written from the same format—
In his Queens digs
Going to Chaim’s Deli
Having it out with Ruby
Having it out with the bums
Walking to Manhattan or
To Siam Massage
Going to Chinatown
Doping, screwing, art exhibits
Poetry readings and
Plenty of everything
So he takes some time off from writing to think about it— maybe he would move to California and become a surfer, writing exclusively about waves and the color of the ocean on any given day.
He decided he would stay on course and continue being Henry Lucowski, regardless of what his readers thought, not saying fuck off to his readers, but saying, I have to be who and what I am—preeminently.
Henry thought of the scene in the first Rocky flick, Rocky running up 72 steps, shadow boxing all the way to the Philly Art Museum, at the top turning around and looking out at the world in divine affirmation of who he was, his warts and saggy parts, all of it in the face of the rest of the world.
Back at it —
Henry in his Queen’s apartment, he would use the same format.
Henry Miller, living in Big Sur in the 40s, stoned on ganja and wine, musing through the night, typing like a madman all night and in the morning producing a single outlined page which would be the format for all his future work.
Henry Lucowski not unlike Henry Miller, the two— geniuses who speculated on the love they didn’t know, both liking sex, dope, and Asian women. Visionaries who rarely ventured far from the safety of their outlines.
It was a fall night, sometime between 1970 and 1980.
Henry was hungry.
He cleans up and goes to Chaim’s Deli, once inside, sitting at his favorite booth, Ruby his waitress comes to his table moving sexy-like and he says to her—
Ruby, I know you have read my short stories at Busted on Empty—well, my readers aren’t hitting the site anymore. Ruby interrupts him saying,
Shut the fuck up Henry who gives a damn what John and Sally Doe think? Be yourself doll, that's your gift from up high!
Henry smiles at Ruby and orders potato pancakes with applesauce and sour cream, and a double Sabra spritzed.
After eating he thanks the folks at the deli, walking up to everyone, customers and staff, bowing and shaking their hands with both of his hands, feeling gratitude towards all living creatures. Henry lighting up the place and spreading joy.
Leaving Chaim’s and walking through the Bowery, hugging a few of the bums as he says—
It's great that you’re you!
Henry smelled awful, covered in grime and dirt after rubbing it up with the bums.
He walks from the Bowery to Siam Massage for a massage, a cold tub plunge and hot sauna.
Inside the spa, he sees May his regular masseuse. Henry says to her,
sawadhi kop Khun May, how about a cold plunge in a deep tub and a sauna darling? The bums I was man-hugging smelled awful.
May looking sexy wearing a red see-through nighty, naked except for a thong underneath goes to Henry and takes his hand, the two walk to the sauna room.
They strip down and Henry takes the plunge into the cold tub, splashing some and gasping, jumping out quickly.
Henry then sits on a small wooden bench, May pouring buckets of warm water on him, then soaping him up all over his body. She cleans his anus and spends extra time soaping up his balls and cock. Then rinsing the soap suds off his body with buckets of lukewarm water.
The 2 go into the sauna which is already hot, May stokes it up even more by pouring water on the hot black rocks. Henry is laying on the bottom bench and May is on the top bench, she begins rubbing her vagina and clitoris in a way only a woman knows. Soon she gets off— sprinkling golden pee down on Henry like rain. Now out of the sauna, the pair take a plunge in the cold water tub.
They leave the sauna room and walk down a dark purple hall to one of the massage rooms. The room smelling of incense, lit by blue light. Henry lays down on a thin mat on the floor and May begins rubbing him down with jasmine oil, feet first, then sensually rubbing his stomach and chest, then his erect nipples. Henry is hard and May places a pillow under his ass, slightly elevating his body and then grabbing his balls, one in each hand and going down on him tea bag style.
After Henry finishes the two sit up on the floor, May pulls out a blue vile of cocaine crystals, she lays down and spreads a few lines on her silky white belly, Henry snorts them up, taking her cue he goes down on her, smoking her hairless pussy, she finishes, once again spraying a golden spritz of pee and saturating Henry, he loves it.
After showering Henry thanks May, then generously tipping her and saying good night.
In the front of Siam Massage he hales a taxi and tells the driver to go to Lees Laundry in Chinatown.
At Lee's Laundry, he walks into the adjacent alleyway and opens a black metal door, then walking down a single flight of stairs to the basement. The place is filled with strung out Chinamen and a few Black guys, all of them off in opium dreams.
An older Chinese lady leads Henry to a mat on the floor and tells him to lay down on his side. She leaves and comes back with an antique pipe, the bowl packed with tar opium. She hands him the pipe which he puts in his mouth and draws on as she lights the tar.
Henry fading and lapsing into a dream— he is walking on a jungle path, then he falls into a deep rock pit and lands in a stream full of waste, seeing rats and smelling the waste he figures he must be in the NYC sewer system. He sees a ladder on the wall and climbs it, then pushing the sewer cover open. On street level and standing, he looks around and sees he is in front of his Queen’s apartment.
The last waking experience he remembered was going to Lees Laundry, smoking opium and lapsing into a dream.
He had been going to Lee’s for years and had always paid his bill. He doubted that the Chinamen threw him into the sewer, they were too whacked on opium to bother.
Could it be that the entire night was a dream?
Or was it something that was purely spiritual? Something that couldn’t be explained logically?
Henry would go to bed fearfully nervous, not wanting to dwell on the dream occurrence.
Next week he would run it by his shrink at the welfare office, or ask Ruby his waitress about it?
Next week he would run it by his shrink at the welfare office, or ask Ruby his waitress about it?
Ruby was the wisest person in the world sitting on Delphi high, the shrink at the welfare was buried in a mountain of bureaucracy.