The Hand Print
Photo by me
An excerpt from my latest newsletter: “The Hand Print”:
That scene would star Jenna and a well-known male porn star named T. T. Boy, a short, pugnacious performer with a lantern jaw and a permanent scowl who reminded me of a less-bright Patrick Bateman. (“Within the business, he is known as an untiring performer,” T. T. Boy’s Wikipedia page touts. “In a 2015 interview, he stated that over the course of his career, he has slept with over 10,000 women.”) I knew who T. T. Boy was before I arrived because I had read about him in the pages of The New Yorker. In 1995, Susan Faludi had written about the suicide of a male porn star named Cal Jammer, and during her research in the San Fernando Valley, her path had crossed with that of T. T. Boy’s. In her story, she’d quoted a former male porn star who’d observed of T. T. Boy: “Basically, the guy is a life-support system for a penis.” I found this assessment to be about right. He was smaller than me, brooding, coiled as if looking for an excuse to do something to someone—it didn’t really matter what or who, whether it was fighting or fucking. Maybe it was all the same to him.
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