I took a class today and learned the fine art of Polaroid transfers and emulsion rubs. I like taking art classes, if, for any other reason, just to clear my head of the filth I create as a smut peddler.

As I was making my Polaroid transfer, the teacher was blabbing about something, and then she said, “not to change the subject, but I was listening to NPR today…”

I dunno if you’ve ever sat through an art class, but all the people who take them are NPR junkies, so I really didn’t pay attention to her. I was focusing on my transfer, but what she said next caught me by surprise.

“NPR said this weekend there’s something going on in Las Vegas. Do you guys know what they were talking about?”

There were three of us in class, making Polaroid transfers, and they other ladies were 50, maybe 55 years old, and they had no idea what was going on in Las Vegas this weekend.

I knew what was going on in Vegas.

“Um, well…” she stammered. “The adult entertainment industry was having their national convention this weekend.”

One of the ladies said, “What’s that mean? Adult entertainment?”

Suddenly, this very weird vibe feel over the room. And no one answered her…until I did.

“I think they’re talking about the porn industry.” I said it in this way that would have made you laugh. I had to keep from laughing, anyway.

It’s hard, at times, being a pornographer. My immediate family knows what I do for a living, and they don’t mind. Once you get to grandma, and aunts and uncles, and cousins…well, they don’t know. And when I say it’s hard being in my business, it’s hard cause I’m not a liar. Lying really isn’t part of my nature. Of course I’ve lied…but it isn’t something I do on any kind of consistent basis…until, say, it’s Thanksgiving, and my grammy says something like, “tell me, Billy, how’s your work going?”

The table goes silent, and all eyes turn to me.

I could say something like, “well, Grammy…I’ve hard a week. I tried to shoot a double anal scene with Hillary Scott, and it just didn’t happen. Then, Hillary got kinda upset, and she blamed the black guys, and the black guys blamed her, and even though the scene got shot, it coulda been better. Then I had four whores flake on me for a trip to the gloryhole, and during a Spunkmouth shoot with Bree Olson, one of the load dumpers hurt himself on the basketball court and couldn’t dump a load.”

Instead, I lie, and I tell her things are great. Most of my family thinks I’m a “web guy” and when they press me as to what I do, I’ll say something fancy like, “I offer hosting solutions,” and if they press me further, I’ll talk about “server-side apps” and “design work” and “php coding”.

That usually shuts them up.

Anyways, I said it again. “They’re talking about the porn industry,” and the three ladies looked at me, and one of them said, “Oh my home!”

Oh my home? What does that mean, exactly? I wanted to ask her, but I didn’t, and thinking about it now, I think it was a nice way of saying “Oh my hell!”

Then the teacher chimed in. “They say the porno industry makes more money than football, basketball, and baseball combined!”

I’ve heard that before, and I don’t agree with it. I mean, if we’re making all this money, where is it? Cause I ain’t rich, that’s for sure.

The vibe was still pretty weird, and one of the ladies simply changed the subject. “What do you think about Bush’s speech the other night?”

I think, from now on, I’m just telling everyone what I do for a living. I don’t give a shit anymore.