I’ve already written about how the men who patronized Club Paradox tended towards exhibitionism, but none wanted to be watched more than the man we called ‘The Masturbator.” Almost all the men jerked off as they watched us–that was, as I understand it, the main appeal of the private booth setup of the club–but none did so with such a bizarre mixture of shame and enthusiasm as the Masturbator.
The Masturbator was a very large very well-dressed man of late middle years who bore a distinct resemblance to Fatty Arbuckle and made an appearance at the peep show every one to two weeks. He almost always visited on Wednesdays and usually showed up between the hours of ten and eleven at night. Part of the regularity of his routine seemed to stem from his infatuation with Patty, our beloved front desk worker, house mom, and manager. There were other front desk workers, such as the woman who hired me, but they changed regularly, and none of them were as dear to our hearts as Patty. But we weren’t the only ones who loved her.
Despite the fact that she was much older and much more clothed than any of us, customers were constantly trying to wheedle her into getting into one of the booths and giving them a show, but none were as persistent as the Masturbator. Every time he visited, he would spend at least half an hour trying to talk Patty into a show, waving money in her face, telling her all about his jerk-off routine, and asking her lots of presumptuous questions about her self-love habits. Every time the Masturbator visited, Patty would tell him that she didn’t dance, that no amount of money could convince her to dance, and that what she did when she was alone was none of anyone’s business. When he finally gave up he would select one of the girls from the slideshow picture frames that were displayed in the lobby, purchase time in the ‘windowless’ room, and the fun would start.