Well the title sounds like a cheesy B movie from the 80s or something and let me assure you. that is entirely intentional. Like the cheesy B movies of the past this story is just as uncouth.
When I worked at the peep show there was a story going around about an old man who died in the porn theatre. All the girls seemed to believe it and had all sorts of outlandish stories to go with their beliefs. The story was that the deceased was an elderly man who suffered from a severe heart attack whilst enjoying the porn on the big screen. Apparently this unfortunate gentleman had the tenacity (in more than one way) to undergo a severe heart attack and die while holding his unsheathed member seated upright as if merely sleeping.
This event went unnoticed in a crowded theatre and wasn't realised until several hours later.
The last bit I can't disagree with. I know that there is always tons of things going on in that vile theatre other than people merely watching the movie and can't help but believe no one would notice until hours later. (You can stay in there as long as you like) The man was said to be one of the few that actually came for the movie and not other men. He would always take his place front and center to the screen so that nothing would obstruct his view of the glorious film.
This is the basic story told to me from the mouth of the one that supposedly found him, the custodian. I am inclined to believe it there isn't anything really strange about the story thus far.
The story tends to take on many disturbing and unbelievable lengths as it is circulated by the dancers. You can imagine that there are many little sordid exaggerations and fallacies appended to it.
For instance, I had heard one girl who had been there a long time say that while the man was sitting there dead, other men had removed his member from his pants and performed abject acts to him thinking he was merely asleep.
Another slightly less disturbing story was that he had suffered the heart attack after being subjected to too many assailing imagines around him. These images were pugnacious to his poor old mind and he reached a breaking point. There was mention that a man gravy train could have taken place that very night.
The last part I don't argue with. I know that these sorts of activities ran rampant behind the paid access only door. I had been walked through there once so I could see what it looked like. It was pitch black in there and the only light was the dim glow of the screen.
It is arguable though that the man would have seen this activity from where he sat. He would have had to turn all the around in his chair and somehow see through the dark to the very back of the large room. (As that was the only place there was room for such things.) This was an impossible feat, as me with my perfect vision couldn't have witnessed it.
He was also a regular and therefore obviously wise to the antics that transgress in the room. I sincerely doubt that any sort of shenanigans would have affected him at all.
Okay so the ghostly part of the story....
Like the accounts of the man's tragic demise varied per storyteller, so do the inevitable ghost stories that followed the event.
Girls did not like it if they were there alone. Some girls claimed to have felt something like a stroke on the hair or a pinch on the bum. Others had gone as far to have claimed that they saw him spying them through their windows. There was one girl that even claimed to have heard her name whispered to in her ear. She even claimed to have felt his breath on her neck as the words escaped like breath from his lips.
I was not so sure. I don't believe in ghosts. I certainly wouldn't entertain the idea that he would have left behind a ghost in his passing. Why would he? He died masturbating to a porn movie in a disgusting and sticky theatre. As sad as it is he died doing what he loves to do best and to those that believe in ghosts, isn't that a sure way not to leave your spirit hanging around? He never paid any attention to the dancers in life, so why would he start harassing them now in death? There was a porn theatre that played non-stop porn for 23 hours! (The 24th hour was cleaing time.) If he had been a ghost he would have stayed in that theatre.
Anyway so every time a new girl would arrive (it happened often as rarely did a girl stick around) the story would be told to her as well. Complete with embellishments and all. This girl would soon be turned fearful of solitude. New stories would pop up about the light turning off on its own and doors slamming by themselves.... Typical stories, nothing imaginative in the least.
There came a time when I was there alone all night. The other scheduled girls had flaked as was common, leaving me in the room and an attendant out at the desk. I heard nothing out of the usual. There were no unexplained drafts and no pinches to my bum. My hair was not caressed by unseen hands and I felt perfectly at ease. I packed in the night without one single solitary story to tell. Come the next night, I had been asked about it. The girls were so "concerned" about me and how I fared. They wondered if I had been scared.
Quite plain and simply nothing happened. I was not scared in the least and I managed many shows and had no competition all night. Positive end to a quiet night.
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