VoxNeruda steps out of the men's restroom of the dark and dreary gas station on the outskirts of town.  

Perhaps everyone won't get the reference, as it does not apply to many of your lavish lifestyles, but I think one thing we can all agree on is that in life, in particularly this life, there are two types of people.  Those who stand at the glory hole, and those who service it from the other side.  We've all of course heard people gloat 'you can find me at the business end of a glory hole...', but aren't both sides of the stall 'the business side' technically?  It all depends on your perspective.

So I ask all of you... which end of the glory hole are you on in This Thing of Ours?  And how do your actions speak to which side of the stall you see yourself on?

VoxNeruda takes a seat on a crate and rubs his sore knees, allowing everyone ample time to think about their roles in this life we have chosen.

Kuku quickens his pace as he walks past the strange smelling man, but he hears the man's words echo through his brain.  Kuku snorts with derision.  He's a bit shot mafiosa!  He STANDS at the glory hole and lets someone else service it from the other side.  Secure in both his masculinity AND his place in the societal pecking order, he continues his walk.  Suddenly, and with clarity, the strange man's words reverb around his brain.  He is not questioning himself, and everything that he has ever knows.  He returns to confront the man and begins to speak...

"You, you bum, you are making me question myself and everything that I've ever known.  Many is the day I've stopped off at this very gas station and availed myself of that glory hole.  I'd  stand there, with not a single thought for who was servicing it.  I could have sworn I heard Teq gag once, but other than that, I just wouldn't care.  I'd stand there, revelling in the glory of being me, until I was good and ready to go, and then I'd go.  So I first thought "heck, you old bum, of course I stand at, rather than service, the glory hole.

But now, and damn you to Hell for this, you've put this question to me in a way that's got me thinking.  I'm but a lowly associate.  My boss is a good boss, but he isn't going to service the glory hole, is he?  He's too damn busy.  And in the crew, I've got to do things I don't want to do.  So yeah, let's face facts: I service the glory hole and I make sure I do it with a smile on my face.  The better I service, the longer I live, so I makes it my God damned business to service that glory hole that WhereWasI serves up metaphors: messily, and memorably!

As for my actions, and how they speak to which side of the stall I'm on, again, damn you to Hell!  For I thought, of course I just get the service and the glory.  But then I realised, these here Streets, that I'm on day in, day out, all I'm doing, in a sense, is serving whatever pokes through that glory hole - a barbed question, a comment, a rebuttal.  All day I'm standing at the side of that stall and waiting to see what comes through, and when it does, you're God damn sure that I have to service it.  Otherwise, who am I?  I'm some punk who can't take what's coming at me like a man!

So, VoxNeruda, a smelly, old, broken knees man you are, but one who has gotten into my head as surely as the last few fantasists got into yours.  I saw them talking to themselves in the stall, but realised they were talking to you."

Dearest CommissarKuku, I'm glad my analogy has moved you so.  It is the greatest compliment a person can receive here in these cold hard streets where we congregate to speak, and where I dwell.  Maybe it isn't so much my words that have moved everybody, but the fact that the glory hole is such a perfect metaphor for the mafia much like everyone is saying.  

Allow me to challenge everyone even more.  Often times, there may be a centerfold hanging on the stall's wall, (the standing side) of a beautiful woman, often scantily clad, giving 'those who stand' something pleasing to look at while the workers tend to their deeds.  'Those who stand' usually succeed in this life by "keeping their eye on the prize", in this case the centerfold, making this glory hole metaphor ring all the more true.