When we arrived on St. Mark's Place, most of the stores were boarded up. These were the vestiges of the once flowering East Village. Now ladened with junkies, you'd never venture to Tompkin's Square Park for fear of being mugged. Instead, I headed for Third Avenue which was sparsely filled with a few vintage shops.

I picked "Revenge" because I liked the name, plus they had a $1 bin in the front window. As I picked through the pile, the clothes took on a life of their own. Apparently one of the sales persons, or friend of..., was buried underneath and was rudely awakened from their afternoon nap!

That night after seeing the Dead Boys, we wound up at Max's Kansas City where John professed his undying love to me and the fact that he and Kenny Scharf had "fucked around". It took me a while to figure that one out. When I did, I boo-hooed a little, but we decided to remain friends. Is that all there is to love?
When we got home we dyed our hair fushia and changed our names. Nothing would ever bee the same. We became Wendy Wild and John Sex, and from that day on our mailbox read: "WILD/SEX"

Me and John started to go-go dance together. We would open as a warm-up act for bands. Unlike just plain stripping, we'd use blow-up dolls to mimic a free-for-all orgy, all done to the music of the Cramps and the Fleshtones. One real crowd pleaser was our "Handstand Beaverwalk". This involved me doing a handstand while John pretended to get me off, and it always ended with my current flame stomping out of the club. Many times after a grueling night of dancing, we'd grab a bite to eat at 103, which was open all night, and then head out to Coney Island, still in our costumes, and pass out on the beach.