Fast Food Sex
please microwave this letter
David and I have a new podcast episode out, talking about Andrew Holleran’s essay “Fast Food Sex” (1979) and the eternal lure, not so much of sex with randos itself, but of feeling some type of way about it.
Why call it “Fast Food Sex”? Burgers are sexual, I guess because they’re meaty, greasy, cheap and easy?
In contrast to “fast food sex” one could imagine sex as what Madonna called a “home-cooked meal” (dining out can happen/ down below!) but it’s hard to imagine sex in terms of such alternatives to fast-food as the salad, or the fast-casual neo-liberal bowl.
David and I consider the discourse of burgersex, but for more of Holleran on fucking, well, there’s his whole body of work! Check out, for example, his “Notes on Promiscuity” done up as an animated collage by some New School gaysian.
Or some of the innumerable passages—well, more on yearning than fucking—in Holleran’s correspondence where our great author is every bit as lyrical and funny in staging of his desire to huff state college jock crotch as was the magisterial Boyd McDonald:
there’s a Graham Greene short story in which a gay man, explaining his lack of interest in women, says that they remind him of salad