Porn Is Better Than American Express

Every year a friend of mine has a weekend summer party. Last year I arrived with a load of DVDs under my arm and I was amazed at the welcome I received. There was nearly a fight as everyone clambered to get their hands on the hardcore. As I stood back to watch the frenzy a girlfriend turned to me and said “a big box of porn is better than a gold American Express card” and she was right. There are so many times when the promise of a movie has got the job done.

I'll set the scene for you. Essential phone line in the office is down. I call the phone company who promises to send an engineer the following day. Next day, no engineer. The company apologizes and promises to send an engineer the following day. Next day, no engineer. After another few days of this, I'm ready to strangle someone. Then, hallelujah an engineer arrives at 4.30pm on a Friday afternoon. He looks at the fault, shakes his head, sucks his teeth and says: “Sorry luv, I clock off at 5pm so I can't fix it. I'll call head office and get them to book you an engineer for Monday”. Me: “Would you like a copy of Spunk Loving Gangbang Sluts 8? What about Killer Pussy or maybe Witches of Arsewick? On second thoughts why not take all three!” Phone engineer: “That'll do nicely. It should take me 20 minutes to get that phone line up and running.” Sure enough, 15 minutes later the problem was solved. I had my phone line back and the engineer left a very happy man.

Take the above scene and substitute the phone engineer for a builder, an IT consultant, a guy who delivers the water, a courier, a window cleaner, a plumber... in fact anyone who offers a service. As I said before, porn is better than Amex.

Actually, even when the guy doesn't want to get his hands on my movies it can work in my favour. In my first year of business the tax man wanted to come and check my books. In those days, I spent hours screening hardcore films to work out which ones I should buy for UK release. The TV just so happened to be on the table which was the most sensible place for the tax man to go about his business. The guy who turned up was short, balding and badly dressed in a polyester suit. He couldn't have looked more like a tax inspector if he tried. I sat him down, gave him the files and settled down to watch the next batch of porn. I don't know if it was the constant grunting, the slurps and smacks of pussy eating or the 'fuck me, fuck me in the ass, give it to me in the ass.' Maybe it was the distraction of a beautiful big-titted, blonde sucking on a throbbing dick just out of his field of vision? So near yet so far. Either way, Mr Tax Inspector couldn't stand it and after just 10 minutes he was done and he nearly fell over as he ran out the door!

You see, porno gets the job done.