Wednesday, December 07, 2005

An example of how Max is so much nicer than I am…

The other day, Max goes into a busy bank on Capitol Hill and gets in line for the teller. There’s a woman, a stranger, standing in front of him, and when he joins the queue, she turns around and looks him up and down. Not politely, either. Kinda like: what the hell are you doing there?

Well, Max thinks, I’m standing in line behind you, obviously.

Her gaze alights on the logo on his t-shirt.

And she says, “'Thunder In The Mountains' – what’s that?”

Now, as I said, Max is a much friendlier and kinder person than me. My response to being questioned like this - and yes, it’s happened - is generally to fix the person with a cold eye and say, “I think you’ve got all the information I’m interested in sharing.”

Or, if I’m really feeling pissy, “Why don’t you explain to me just exactly why you think I should answer your questions?” I almost never talk to strangers in public places, and I very much resent having my thoughts intruded upon by rude people like this woman.

But Max said, “It’s a conference in Denver.” A polite but brief answer that should have been her cue to be quiet.

She didn’t take it. “I know that,” she said in this very exasperated tone of voice, as if he were being just so tiresomely obtuse. “What kind of conference?”

Now, she’d be way into “it’s none of your business” territory with me. But both Max and Roman have a sometime charming, sometimes alarming, willingness to come out to random strangers, if said random stranger asks enough questions. I will not do this. I think it’s a gender thing.

So Max replied, “A rope bondage conference.” (Technical note: yes, TITM is actually a BDSM con, not just a rope-bondage con. Max knows that. He just didn’t feel it was a really crucial distinction to make at the moment.)

When Max was relating this story to me, I laughed out loud and said, “I can’t believe you said that to her! What did she say then?”

“Her eyes got big,” he replied. “And she just looked at me for a minute and then said, 'I gotta get out of this town. It is just way too weird here, I gotta get back to Portland'.”

Huh. I wonder if she knows about this….

Tuesday, December 06, 2005

More news on Heidi Fliess’s plan to build an all-male brothel in Nevada. Color me very skeptical about the whole venture, although it certainly would be amusing if she actually did it.

I’m struck by this quote from Fliess, though:

"I have heard from very wealthy, very beautiful women who say they'll be first in line...”

Very beautiful? Hmmm, why the insistence on the women’s looks? If they’re paying the boys, why does it matter? Just take some Viagra and get the job done, gentlemen.

No, I think Heidi is playing to the gigolo fantasy that a lot of boys have, sending them the message that they’d get paid to fuck women they found attractive anyway. It wouldn’t surprise me a bit if she’d cooked up some scheme to make money off the would-be male prostitutes, perhaps charging them a very high “room and board” fee, or something like that. That’s not uncommon in the industry – Lord knows the strip clubs right here in Seattle make the vast majority of their money off the “house fees” that the dancers pay to work there. The cover-charge and the soft-drink revenue is chump change by comparison.

I’ll be watching to see if any ground ever gets broken on this, or if it just dwindles into smaller and smaller news items.

Monday, December 05, 2005

It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas..

And that’s always a weird time of year for me. I like Christmas, don’t get me wrong. But I think I’d like it a lot better if the whole “holiday season” was about a week long. Maybe two weeks. But six plus weeks of being beaten over the head with it? Bah humbug. By the time December 25th actually rolls around, I’m over it.

Then there's the whole present thing. I like giving people I love presents. But in the past, I have sometimes had a hard time accepting them. I’ve gotten better at it, but still, I have to remind myself from time to time that people give gifts because it honestly gives them pleasure to do so, and I don’t have to put pressure on myself to instantly reciprocate in some way, just because I think I need to keep some invisible set of scales neatly balanced. I know if I give someone something, it’s just because I think they’d like it and I enjoy the act of giving it to them and seeing them be happy about it. But that’s been something I’ve had to learn to trust in others.

All that said, I do have some very sweet and generous boys who have asked me for a Christmas gift list. So, okay, here goes.

Books are always good. Here's some stuff off my Amazon list I'd like to read over the holidays:

Marriage, a History: From Obedience to Intimacy, or How Love Conquered Marriage by Stephanie Coontz

The Girl in the Glass : A Novel, by Jeffrey Ford

London 1849 : A Victorian Murder Story, by Michael Alpert

The Virgin's Lover, by Philippa Gregory

A Breath of Snow and Ashes, by Diana Gabaldon

The Kinky Girl's Guide to Dating, by Luna Grey

Polyamory: Roadmaps for the Clueless & Hopeful, by Anthony D. Ravenscroft

Something more personal? Well, I love this bracelet. (Of course this is nice, too, but it seems a bit excessive. I don't really move in a diamond-wearing crowd.)

I am also lusting after this jacket. This coat is pretty as well, although I've never worn such a long coat. But it looks warm, and I am a girl who's often wearing skimpy little outfits when it's cold outside. I'd have to have it in black, of course.

Boots. I love pretty boots. Love 'em. Size 8.5, if anyone's wondering.

Then there's kinky stuff. It's great when people bring me naughty things, because my rule is: you bring it to me, you're asking me to use it on you. Heh.
I do seriously want this sling. And while I have one fucking machine, this one looks uber-cool.
I could play some wickedly fun games with this little device, too.

Geek stuff? Gee, Santa, I want a laptop. Do the elves makes those? I also want one of these, although I'm still researching brands and models.

Of course, I'm not sure exactly how good of a girl I've been this year, but we'll see what the guy in the red suit does for me. Hey, even if he puts switches in my stocking, I'm sure I can think of something fun to do with them.

Friday, December 02, 2005

Yay, I've been saved from snow - real, sticky, snowed-in snow - once again. Whew. I'm sure that soon the Weather God is going to get tired of me telling him, "Snow tomorrow, and snow yesterday - but never snow today".
However, I feel like I dodged a frosty bullet, because baby, I've got things to do. Ain't got no time for no snow.
So while I go do them, read all about it.

Oh, and don't forget Cirque Du Noc on Saturday, and Max's bondage workshop on Sunday. Big fun.

Thursday, December 01, 2005

Tonight, I’m going to an industry party. A sex industry party, that is. I don’t usually go to such things - they’re really geared more towards the escorts and sensual-touch ladies. I am considered a niche service, and a lot of the vanilla boys just don’t know what to make of me. (Some of them know what they’d like to make of me, though. I admit that it can be entertaining to tease them.)

No, I’m not telling you where it is, sorry. Those who know, know, and I haven't been empowered to give out information about it. Besides, it’s not that exciting to the naked eye (so to speak). It’s just a cocktail party-type thing where the professional ladies smile and flirt and pass business cards to interested parties. People make conversation about the weather and sports teams and the monorails crashing into each other, and oh by the way, sweetie, do you have a website? What are your hours? But if you were watching through a window, it wouldn’t look so different than lots of other social events.

The street workers usually don’t come to stuff like this. No, it’s mostly the middle-tier of sex workers - the largest group by far - that you’ll meet at these events. (What would upper-tier be? Porn star-escorts who get a thouand dollars or more for dates. That's a relatively small group.)

It’s a nice system in some ways. There’s no question that having met someone at a party like this makes booking an initial appointment with them much less fraught with tension. You’re less likely to get no-showed by a guy who’s met you already, and when he shows up, you already know something about who he is, in terms of personality and looks. It removes the whole blind-date anxiety - on both sides, I imagine.

I’ve been to a few of these things, and as I said, a lot of the boys don’t know quite what to say to me. Some of them email me after the fact and tell me they were afraid to come talk to me, as if I might pull out my riding crop and thrash them on the spot. But my entire purpose in going to firmly establish the fact that I actually don’t have snakes for hair, and I don’t turn men into stone with my glance, and some of the boys clearly enjoy getting to hang out with me a bit. Oddly, though, the guys who can chat with me in a perfectly relaxed and friendly manner usually aren’t the ones who wind up calling the next day to schedule with me. It’ll be the boy who stutters and shuffles and barely meets my eye that I’ll be hearing from. Which I suppose is sort of charming, when I think about it.