“How did you get to be Guy New York?” Bob asked me one night in the courtyard of Madam X.

“There’s only one way to become a New York,” I told him. I reached into my vintage leather jacket and pulled out a silver cigarette case. I opened it and pulled out a Pall Mall and lit it with my grandfather’s Zippo.

“And how is that?” he asked as if he were humoring me.

“You know the answer, Bob. There’s only one way to become a New York. You have to fuck the Great Whore.”

“That’s a fucking myth man, don’t give me that shit. There is no Great Whore of New York.”

“Hey, you asked,” I said as I took a long pull off my cigarette. Bob stared at me for a moment, and I could tell he wasn’t sure if I was bullshitting. Finally, he couldn’t help himself.

“And you fucked her?”

“I did, and if you want to become Bob New York, you’ll have to do the same thing.”

“She doesn’t fucking exist man. There’s no secret entry from the F train, and no ninjas blocking the way.”

“That’s true,” I said. “There are no ninjas. The way is guarded by The Three Lesser Whores of Manhattan, and you have to fuck them first. Plus answer their historical trivia. The entry is off the F train, but you have to know how to find it. It’s in the ___ St. Station.”

“You are so full of shit.” He said, but he knew I wasn’t lying. He knew because it was only a few years ago that I was just Guy. He knew because everyone knows that one morning I crawled out of the subway with a new grin on my face, and I was Guy New York, and there was no question about it.

Finally, he asked me to tell him my story.

“The first three whores aren’t the problem as long as you don’t mind a little spanking and you know your history. By the way, the first subway was opened on October 27th, 1904, which just happens to be a few months after Helen Keller graduated from Radcliff.

“Once I fucked all three of them — and answered their trivia questions — I made my way through the dark tunnel until I found her. She waits outside an old wooden door, and she invites you in with a warning. “Come in and have me,” she says as she moves to open the door. And then this is the part most people don’t understand Bob. She says, “Your deepest desire will come true.”

“That sounds awesome man! What’s wrong with that?”

I took the last two drags off my smoke and crushed it into an ashtray. I shook my head as I looked up at Bob.

“No one can handle what they most desire, Bob. When she opens that door, she’s not likely to turn into Scarlett Johansson in The Back Room. She’s going to turn into your father with a brush handle or your twelve-year-old niece in her ballet costume. She reaches down into your soul and pulls out your deepest darkest need and want. And if you want to become a New York, you have to satisfy it. Even if it leaves you empty inside. Even if it leaves you so full of guilt and remorse that you’re never the same. It’s either that or you leave and the name is gone forever.”

Bob looked at me, and there was no question in his eye. It was replaced with fear and respect and something that looked almost like want.

“What happened for you?”

“I’ve never told a soul Bob, but I’ll tell you now. She looked into my eyes as she took me by the hand and when she opened the door, she stopped in her tracks. She looked through into the room, and then back at me, and she started to tremble. I pulled her through the doorway and onto the bed, and when I kissed her on the cheek, I could taste her salty tears.”

“Who did she turn into? Why was she crying?”

“She didn’t turn into anyone. That’s why she was crying. Don’t you see? My deepest darkest desire was to fuck the Great Whore of New York, and she hadn’t been laid in over a hundred years. Not as herself anyway. She’s doomed to change every time, and it’s just as hard for her as for all those men and women who show up at her door. She has to live through it all as well, but unlike them, she can’t walk away. When she looked into my eyes and saw what I wanted, she didn’t believe it. When I pulled her into her own bedroom, she couldn’t believe it. And when I leaned down and kissed her own lips for the first time, she cried, and she cried as we made sweet love to sound of passing trains.

“So, if you want to become Bob New York, you know what to do. You have to face your darkest desire and walk out the other side.”

“Well, plus the trivia,” Bob added.

“Yes, Bob. Also the trivia.”