It’s almost impossible to maintain one’s integrity in this town called New York. The things a person will debase herself (and sometimes himself) into doing in order to make a slow buck that will pay for that remotely located room off the New Lots Avenue L are unheard of in other parts of the U.S. That’s why, to be honest, there’s often more integrity in sucking dick for pay than office work.
Why reduce cube life to such a drastic and crude metaphor? Because when one sits amid her three-partitioned cell all day, she is forced to plaster a smile on at the appropriate moments, moan with delight at whatever her boss tells her to do and then go home and pretend as if none of it ever happened. At least with dick sucking, there is no need for analogy: it is what it is. With office life, on the other hand, everything is subtext for licking another person’s balls–usually diseased, odorous ones at that. So what am I saying exactly? Be Joe Dallesandro.