I Am a Prude


I have become a prude. I am so sick of good movies and good television movies and series capitalizing on sex. What a waste of time!

Okay, you may ask why is on-screen sex a waste of time? Sex is fun, right? In real life sex is, indeed, fun but more often than not in movies and series, it waylays the storyline.

Take The Americans, a good show, where the leading lady has sex with sundry men and the leading man (yes, our lady and man are wife and husband) has sex with all manner of women. Hey, that’s fine because they are Russian spies and they have to do what they have to do to get what they want from the enemy.

Great. But once the sex is stipulated to occur right now, why do we have to waste precious minutes watching them moan, groan and hump? We know what’s going to happen in the scene so why bother with it? It doesn’t further the plot one iota.

I just watched the first three episodes of True Detective. I liked the show but the husband who cheats on his wife has a scene where they do it (seemingly forever). She is totally nude and they are, well, you know what is going on because you see it and know the whole scene reduces the story to a glacial pace.  The handcuffs he brings to our fair damsel’s house in episode 2, clearly show us that this relationship is going to get kinky; nothing more is needed. Once a scene indicates the character is having an affair, we can move on for crying out loud.

Let me juxtapose the scene in Casablanca where Rick and Ilsa illicitly meet in Rick’s room. Wow! That is sensuality to its nth degree. We didn’t have to see anything more than their kiss. Without a wasted moment, the scene drove the story further along. Compared to that scene, the movies and shows that burn up time with sex scenes prevent us from answering our burning question—what happens next?

The Americans could have been an “A” series but to me it fell to “B+” in my estimation. That’s a big drop. As for True Detective? I doubt I’ll bother finishing it.

Yes, I am now a prude—or perhaps I’m simply a guy who enjoys good writing and scenes that don’t waste my time.

Frank’s books are available on Amazon.com, Kindle, e-books, Barnes and Noble, and at bookstores.

This Column is Rated “X”


I have to warn you that this column is about sex – and, no, not the loving kind that exists between a husband and wife; or the fiercely romantic kind that exists in great poetry through the ages, but the sordid kind.

Now you may wonder how a column about slot machines can actually be about sex – what do these two things have in common? Stick with me and you will find out.

But first a detour of sorts. I have a love of history and I have been reading about “counter-cultural” movements in our civilization – from the roaring twenties to the beatniks of the 1950s, to the artist colonies that have been in America since before the Civil War, and I discovered that they all had one thing in common. Brush off the black beatnik eyeliner and close your ears to their awful poetry; look past the great music and fabulous dancing of the Roaring 20s; turn the canvasses to their backs and what do you find? From way back when through Andy Warhol through Madonna and right up to today’s leftist meanderings on the university campuses across America – here is what you find: Sex.

It’s all about sex. The poetry, the paintings, the music, the dance, the avant garde, the rap and hip-hop, and all of the this and all of the that, all of it was a cover up for mating. Nothing more and nothing less. Mating. Period.

The young discover sex in every generation and think it is some big deal – as if no generation before them discovered it too.

And that brings me to slot machines. The slot and video poker machines of the $5 denomination and up variety; or those multi-line machines that can take oodles of money for all their plays, or those 10-game-play or 50-game-play or 100-game-play video poker machines – and also the bar-top machines – are the point of contact between the women of the night (early mornings and days) and the male slot player. My thesis, based on first hand knowledge from many men and from my own experiences, is that prostitutes work the machines more than they work the table games because at the table games most men don’t want to be approached – they are into the game – whereas at a slot machine the man controls the game and if a “lovely” approaches him to talk, he’ll stop playing or talk to her while he is playing.

It usually goes like this:

“Are you having any luck?” she asks.

“So so,” says he.

“Is your wife here playing the machines,” she says as she looks at the man’s wedding ring.

“My wife is not with me on this trip,” says the man.

Pause. Sometimes she sprays perfume on herself. Then…

“Why don’t we go back to your room and have some fun?” she says.

Most men politely inform the young woman that they are not interested. She usually smiles and heads to the next perceived payday. Obviously middle-aged men playing high denomination machines are good prospects for those women who prowl the night (and the mornings and the days) in Las Vegas. We aren’t the only ones, of course, since the young men, giddy on drink and gambling, and thinking that deadly sexually transmitted viruses also obey the commercial rule that “what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas” (or Atlantic City or Reno or Lake Tahoe or the Midwest) are fair game as well.

The machines allow a working-woman natural cover – two people talking at a machine for a little while does not look like anything sordid or special. Being approached at a table game, which happens infrequently, is noticeable and disruptive.

Probably the best area for the proactive femme fatales continues to be the bars of the various casinos. Here men can play those bar top machines and the women can sidle right up to them, ask for a drink, talk to them and then make their pitch.

It’s all about sex.

Now here I must admit that I am a fuddy-duddy. I think paying for sex is a stupid thing to do. Think logically now; you are going to enjoy an intimate relationship with someone who has slept with God knows how many men. What are the odds of her having something she caught from one of them? I’d say it’s the best bet in the house. After all, have you seen the men out there?

There’s a good chance she is also taking non-prescribed drugs – a practice that is a great way to contact and transmit diseases by the truckload. Putting aside the fact that she might also want to drug you and rob you, the fact is that if you are married, you are cheating on your wife and if you are not married you are probably cheating on your girlfriend or fiancé.

It isn’t worth the bother. Have sex with your beloved and enjoy the gambling when you are in a casino. End of sermon.

Frank’s books are available on Amazon.com, Kindle, Barnes and Noble, eBooks and at bookstores.