The Buddy Booth

My heart raced as I made my way into the seedy shop. The fluorescent lighting was glaring, giving a stark contrast to the darkness outside.

Right in the middle of 8th avenue, sandwiched between a restaurant and a garment shop was a store whose windows were plastered with images of scantily clad women, bleached and faded from years in the sun. They served at one time as advertisements, but now mostly to shield the customers on the inside from pedestrians on the street.

I had passed by this place a hundred times on the way to work and eventually got it in my head that I needed to check it out. I’d been in porn shops before on a lark, but this time I wasn’t there to purchase smut. Almost unnoticeable among the faded advertisements was a small sign that caught my eye one day and drew me in. “Private booths inside.”

I had heard about the seedier era in New York City’s history, where the areas around Times Square were filled with prostitutes, porn shops and strip clubs. These had been phased out over the years, but a few relics of the glory days remained. Each time I passed the store by, my curiosity would peak. What happens in there now? I had grown bored of online porn and strip clubs. I needed a new thrill.

As I entered and my eyes adjusted, a weary looking man in his 40’s looked down at me from a raised cashier platform. I hurried by, somehow worried he would kick me out. I browsed the porn videos and tried to not make eye contact with the other patrons. I noticed a couple giggling as they looked over the various toys the store had on offer. I glanced up nervously, looking for any sign of the booths.

Finally, I spotted it. A large white sign said “Buddy booths” with an arrow pointing to a seemingly dark downstairs area.

I swallowed hard as I approached the stairs. I’ll either have a great time down there exploring, or be killed. I decided to roll the dice. At the bottom of the stairs I could see a dimly lit hallway with many doors to secluded rooms. I could hear loud music playing from some of them, and thought I heard faint grunts. This must be it. At this point I was so intensely nervous that I could feel a bead of sweat travel down my back. I chose a booth at random and entered.

The booth was dimly lit, but larger than it looked from the outside.