“I have been sober for weeks , but whiskey flows in my veins tonight. I wander through the crowd, flashing pictures. A hooded leatherman silently pantomimes smashing my camera if i take his picture. I move on. In a hallway near the back rooms and glory holes, a paunchy middle-aged man sniffs popper and jerk off, lost in his own private reverie. My flash expodes; the image is blinding.”
Charles Gatewood, Hellfire Club, New York 1980.
