Gilbert Sorrentino - Little Casino

In the interests of fairness, it should be made clear that the depraved, departed husband of this suffering woman, according to records obtained, with considerable difficulty, some few years ago from HQ, III U.S. Army Corps, Fort Hood, Texas, was, upon his discharge from active duty, classified as NS-1, or, Nervous From The Service. This “nervous” state may well have contributed to his lack of understanding of his wife’s emotional needs and her feelings of inadequacy and low self-esteem. This is a common occurrence, according to Captain Laurence O’Banion, AMEDS, not fully understood even by the Army.

“One wonders how the author of this exercise in barely disguised misogyny would like it if he received an unwanted compliment on his short skirt.”

[The above paragraph is especially reprehensible, for it attempts to soften the misogyny of the chapter by the utilization of what is, essentially, an adolescent joke, and one that is, not so incidentally, wholly insensitive to the emotional needs and occasional feelings of inadequacy of cross-dressing males. It also, by calling attention to its message by the use of quotation marks, pretends that the putative writer of the message is different from the actual writer of the message, that is, Gilbert Sorrentino; and that the sentiments and beliefs expressed by Gilbert Sorrentino are not his own, but those of the putative writer. To compound these absurdities, we have the very paragraph that you are reading, a paragraph which labors to remove Gilbert Sorrentino from that which Gilbert Sorrentino has already expressed; to remove Gilbert Sorrentino from that which the putative writer has already expressed; and to remove Gilbert Sorrentino from the authorship of this very paragraph. The fact that this paragraph has made mention of its purpose makes any recognition or condemnation of an exteriorized misogyny (for which, it appears, nobody may be held responsible) in the chapter or its addenda, disingenuous at best and dishonest at worst.]

MORAL: Never Trust A Writer.

“I wear women’s clothes because, well, gee, they make me feel whole and complete and, well, fulfilled, and besides, they’re much more comfortable than trousers and belts and big heavy shoes, ties, and so on. And, heck, if slipping into these things gives me a really terrific, you know, erection, that’s just my body’s way of compensating for my occasional feelings of inadequacy and low self-esteem and my mind’s way of expressing, through my body, my deepest emotional needs as a gender-problematic being, you know?”

[The above paragraph is also reprehensible.]

Q. AS I UNDERSTAND IT, THIS WAS AT ABOUT the time that you got a part-time job as a bookkeeper at Anthanna Air Conditioning and Motorcycle?

A.Correct.

Q. You worked for a man you occasionally referred to as a “guinea bastard”?

A.Yes, well, but he, Tony Mari—

Q.No names need be mentioned, Miss.

A.Yes, I did, I’m sorry to say, and sometimes I called him a cruel person, too, and an insensitive person, irregardless of race, because he was often terrible and cruel to me on days when I was hemorrhaging massively with various infections and a distorted coccyx.

Q.What is, please, a “distorted coccyx”?

A.Distorted. Distorted, you know? Sort of like twisted, so that a typical sufferer has to lay down on the floor in agony.

Q.I’m still not clear on what—

My client is not a medical doctor! Let’s just leave it at distorted, all right?

Q.Is your doctor’s report, or letter, among these papers that you’ve submitted in support of your filing?

A.Right. Correct, yes. But he’s a New York doctor and we, he, hasn’t gotten the good files from the clinic and hospital in California, from my California doctors, who are recognized experts on infections and my type of distortions and hemorrhages. They have the good files, the case … things.

Q.You don’t, then, are you saying that you don’t then vouch for the accuracy or completeness of the medical information submitted here today through your attorney?

Don’t answer that!

A.All I can assert is that my coccyx is just as the medical information says it is, just as distorted now as it has been since my ordeal at Anthanna, and that I have infectious bleeding and some swollen internal organs.

Q.Swollen internal organs? I don’t seem to recall that you mentioned swollen internal organs earlier, or that, they, for that matter, are mentioned—

Can we expedite this deposition, please? My client had a hemorrhage just this morning on the way over here which I barely stanched all over the upholstery of my new BMW.

Q.I’m merely trying to determine what “swollen internal organs” your client is referring to, and just what “infectious bleeding” might be. Not to mention our old friend, “distorted coccyx.”

Don’t answer the question, and there’s no need for you to be a wise guy, either. “Our old friend!”

Q.I didn’t ask a question, sir. I am not asking at this time, a question, sir. I merely want—

Well, you’re supposed to be asking questions, not “merely” making snideish comments.

Q.All right. We can clear up these details of, ah, description later. Fine. Now, Miss, you claim that your employer often leered at you?

A.It is a demeaning memory of absolute horrible fear and humiliation that totally ruined my ability to do my tasks, as well as making a very bad climate in the work area and also place.

Q.Of what did this leer consist? I’m sorry, let me be clearer. Can you, that is, describe this leer?

A.It is very difficult to remember clearly because of my current condition of post-dramatic stress, but it was a very dirty kind of look, as if he was looking improperly at my bosoms and private limbs and other organs right through my garments.

Q.Did he leer at you on what you might consider a regular basis, or were his leers irregular and occasional?

A.He began his objectionable leering activities from the minute I walked in the office every morning like he was looking, like Superman’s x-ray vision, through my dress and intimate garments. He gazed a lot at me, all day, in fact, that’s all I know, and I was rended terribly nervous.

Q.Had you ever apprised him of your discomfort and feelings of embarrassment and anger as the recipient of these suggestive leers?

A.He was my boss, the absolute boss, even though he was nothing but a greaseball pervert! Excuse me for that ethical slur, I’m sorry. I was, sir, deeply afraid that I’d lose my position and so tried to ignore his perverted activities even though the workplace atmosphere became intolerable for me. How I longed, really longed to talk to another woman about my boss, but the only other woman in the office was his sister-in-law, and she was a real bimbo, believe you me.

Q.All right, Miss. If you didn’t talk with this sister-in-law there is no need to mention your opinion as to what you believed to be her loose morals. Your characterization of this woman as a “bimbo” somehow doesn’t really … surprise me.

I object to the tone here taken, and the implication that these sexual tortures in the workplace can be brushed off, when, as scientific tests have shown, such experiences can cause victims to become completely disgusted with normal sex.