Sally Forth

Hey, remember The Fourth of July, 2003? We don't, but found this in our archives:

Fourth of July Fourthiness.

Independence is on the march, patriots.

& Recently . . .

Kurt Cobain's Ghost with an Invitation to a Fourth of July Picnic and Fireworks by Angela Genusa

"B.L.T.": A Review by Will Layman

Ten Tiny Poems by Brian Beatty

Angry Words from a Gnome Who to This Day Continues to Think the Human Genome Project Was Actually The Human Gnome Project by David Ng

Key Party, N.Y.C., Circa Always by William K. Burnette

A Day on the Phone with Mythological Norse Firewarrior, Bringer of Storms by Aaron Belz

Polish Fact

Major illicit producer of amphetamine for the international market; minor transshipment point for Asian and Latin American illicit drugs to Western Europe.

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Thursday, June 5, 2003   |    Fiction

Your First Time

by Bobby Rufferto

Look, I know this is your first time at this. I understand. It’s not easy. But all I’m asking is for you to try harder. Put some zeal into it. Some oomph. Some gusto, some fervor. Enthusiasm. Passion. Pride. That’s it, it’s pride. Forget all those other things. It’s the pride.

I mean look at that guy across the street. He’s doing the same job you’re doing. Where’s his pride? Nowhere. Nowhere to be found. He left his pride home in his other pants. That is a prideless man. And that’s why everybody’s just walking right past him. Look—you see how everybody just walks right past him? There. See? There, that fat lady, she didn’t look twice. There’s a man giving out pizza flyers on the corner—a man dressed as a giant pepperoni, mind you—and this fat lady who probably craves nothing more than a pepperoni pizza walked right past him.

Now look at the guy down the block. There’s a man with pride in his job. Also, the gusto and zeal, et cetera. Every “Rolando’s Haircuts” flyer he gives out, he gives with confidence. Look at how he smacks his ready flyer against the stack, waves it twice—across and back—In front of each passerby. That’s what we’re looking for. Be like the “Rolando’s Haircuts” guy.

O.K., do you think you’re ready? Let’s go. Come with me now, I’ve got the stack, hot off the presses … now, watch me … See? That man just took my flyer! Yes! I’m awesome! I rock! That guy with the comb-over and the shitty jacket, he took my flyer that I waved in his face like a goddamn champion! I am the best motherfuckin’ flyer-giver-outer on this whole fucking street. Watch out, “Rolando’s Haircuts,” you ain’t got nothin’ on me. Ha, ha. O.K., O.K., now you go …

Hmmm. That was O.K. … but there’s still plenty of room for improvement. Also, you might be putting off people by holding the stack glossy side out. Keep it a surprise; have the printed side toward you, concealed, hug it to your bosom. Then when a passerby approaches—wham-o! Here’s a flyer in your face, pal. Ha! Boo-yah!

Better! Hey, you’re getting the hang of it! That was good. Very good. But remember: pride. You represent Spank’s with every flyer you give out. In fact, one might say Spank’s entire business future rests on your shoulders. I know that’s a big responsibility, but every glossy ad you hand out is one more customer in Spank’s, thus securing the future of the club, and your own job. You might look at this flyer and see just two naked women and a Shetland pony crammed into a shower, but it is so much more. This flyer is the future, buddy. The future.

You get me?

No lo comprende, señor.

Excellent. That’s the kind of passion I’m talking about! You’re a Spank’s kind of guy! I’ll be back in an hour. Good luck, brave flyer-man. Fly high.

Bobby Rufferto once broke his jaw on a Jawbreaker. Although it hurt incredibly, he is one to appreciate irony. He has not sued the confectioners. Do you think he should? He's conflicted: on the one hand, it hurt like hell; on the other, he now has a flip-top head which allows him to save money by buying a cheap, generic toothbrush instead of the pricey Reach toothbrush. Also, as a result, he can now entertain party guests by fitting a whole Magic 8-Ball into his mouth and shaking his head for your fortune. While we're on the subject, he did not particularly enjoy the movie Jawbreaker, but he sure digs that Rose McGowen. Oooh, she's naughty. Mr. Rufferto lives in New York, works in New Jersey, and teaches tango lessons in Iowa.