Yesterday, a very interesting device arrived for me in the mail. Oops, I’m jumping ahead — let me back it on up* a little.
Last Thursday my floor shift at Good Vibes was one of those laugh so hard milk comes out your nose every five minutes kind of shifts. You see, we got in this apparatus, the name of which I forgot because we all dubbed it "the cock sock." It’s this almost-jock strap thingie that is a strip of wide elasitc (goes around the waist) with a black spandex pouch positioned right in front, so those who want to make a bulge where there is usually none can "pack" a soft dildo. This is to be worn under the pants, presumably inside underwear. Which confused me — if you’re wearing undies, why do you need to stuff your soft-rod into the ‘sock? Why not just the undies, or just a sock? Anyway, it felt kinda nice and squishy to squeeze, like squeezing a guy’s package but you don’t have to worry about squeezing too hard, and I liked massaging it, which really kind of freaked out my gay male coworker. Yet he couldn’t stop staring. Then two of the women I work with (in dresses, no less) decided to try the ‘sock on, over their dresses, and wing it around, telling each other that they "like it when your balls slap my ass, baby" and proceeded to demonstrate to the remaining customers why I think that our floor staff will someday wind up on America’s Most Wanted.
After work, we all needed beer, so we met up at the Eagle, a local gay male leather bar that is an institution. That night the Extra Action Marching Band landed in all their Tecate soaked glory and proceeded to a) share their beer with me, making me wasted, and b) hammered the crowd into ass-shaking frenzies playing and dancing on the bar, pinball machines, and lastly, the stage. There was even a naked Elvis impersonator. Here’s the rub: drink a lot of beer, and you must pee a lot of beer. The restroom was a cesspool that tried and tested all my powers of balance and thigh muscle control. Worse, I had to hear about the really cool "pee trough" that the guys were all going in, no fuss, no muss.
The next day I did a little research. And struck gold. Now I am the proud owner of a certified pee shooter, a device that women can use to pee standing up, and sans le papier, know what I mean? I saw it on this web site and couldn’t believe it could be true, but damn if it wasn’t five bucks and had won prestigious design awards and went on Antarctic trips with lady scientists. I coughed up the dough, it came in the mail yesterday, and, wow! With a little more practice, I’ll be swordfighting — okay, maybe not, but think of the possibilities.
Tonight I am working many many hours for Good Vibes, but it’s all my fault — and will be fun fun fun. Last year we marched in the SF gay pride parade with that notorious, trouble-making marching band without a school mentioned above, and won "Best Musical Contingent" in the parade. This photographer Anthony J. Hall came along for the ride and took almost 200 pictures, and with the help of another member of the band we put together a big art show of the pics — many of which are dirty, naughty, and not for those under 18. I hung the show with Carol Queen this morning (I hate mornings, but they’re extremely entertaining when you’re hanging out with Carol and she just got back last night from Portland’s live Masturbate A Thon).
Tonight, we’re having an opening party with me and Carol and the band, and it’s all just a hollow excuse to hang out on the Valenciat St. store from 8-10 and play with dildos and talk about the best lubes for slide valve brass instruments.
* back it on up: the name of a drink created after a funny experience in a seedy corner store. I was buying something and this old guy came in, bought some Ripple and a Sprite. The guy behind the counter asks him, "what do you call that?" The customer says, "I take it home to my lady and I call it ‘back it on up!’" Then he cackled like a very old alkie. Yikes. But what a great name for a drink. It’s equal parts pineapple, coconut, orange and mango, plus a squeeze of a lemon and a shot of nice rum. Garnish with pineapple and a cherry for color, or so you can make "cherry" jokes in reference to the drink’s name.
