Wednesday, April 02, 2008

My Trip To the Ball, part Deux.

The deep bass of the dance music pounded our chests as we tried not to walk into anyone while letting our eyes adjust to the semidarkness as the lasers and fog rolled over us. It was immediately obvious to me that we have come inappropriately dressed. My black T-shirt, khakis, desert boots, and Carhart coat would have been okay for an evening out at any bar or concert that I have ever been to, but here, I looked like the biggest "square", or "straight" you could possibly imagine. I felt like a nun in a biker bar. The crowd was dressed in mesh, fishnets, and black leather anything, but skin was the most predominate apparel. For example, there was a gent I passed as I was entering the men's room and he was wearing a straw cowboy hat, cowboy boots, and a speedo so small it could have been an eye patch. He also wore an enormous smile and walked like he owned the place. For all I know, he may have.

Most of the women wore variations of the bustier/teddy in various fabrics, most of them black, but there were a few reds in the crowd. The clothing was tailored so that it held their breasts up and out straight, to the point that they appeared to have a "shelf" a few inches under their chin that you could set your drink on had they held still long enough. The big trend seemed to the black electrical tape. All of the topless women and most of the men wore large X's of black electrical tape over their nipples, and it was always an X. Never a plus sign, or even a diamond or something. Always X's. I could picture them all out in the parking lot before coming in, passing around one role of electrical tape and trying to make sure it was on straight. The only exception was the balcony bartender who wore a giant furry, purple top hat and her pasties were mirrored daisies. She smiled politely as she charged me $8 for two bottles of Budweiser. It was only by the glint of her pasties that I could distinguish my $10 bill from my $5.

By my count, at least two-thirds of the men that were there came in drag. One notable was a tall, slim gent with greasy, stringy hair and glasses who spent the entire evening leaning over the balcony. He was topless and sported tall, black, patent leather boots, fishnets, and a short, quirky plaid school girl skirt. He seemed to be waiting for someone.

The most interesting person that I saw that night, bar none, was the baby. Here was a grey haired man, in his early sixties at a guess, dressed in a bonnet and bib, diaper, complete with rubber undies, booties, with his own diaper bag slung over his shoulder. I watched as he hailed a passing red headed girl, spoke to her briefly, and then knelt down on the sticky carpet and casually licked and suck her toes. He stood up, smiled, and thanked her and she waved as she plunged into the crowd after her friends. He brushed his gray mustache with his index finger and headed into the crowd the other way. We would see him, off and on again, chatting with people and making his way around the substantial room for the rest of the evening.

Originally, I wanted to wear a tuxedo to this affair, as it was to be a ball, something black and dignified seemed the best choice, but money prevented that. As a fall back plan, I considered a tweed sports coat and a tie, my good vest, and my bowler hat, mostly because I own a bowler hat and I seldom have the occasion to wear it. I'm glad I didn't wear it either. There was one guy in a coat and a tie, with waist length hair, and he looked like some academic who had wandered into the wrong night club to meet someone on a bad blind date. Another guy wore his bowler hat, but he had a huge river-boat gambler mustache, and he could pull it off.



  1. Sorry to parcel it out in pieces, but the tale is just too long and complicated for one sitting. I beg for your patience. All will be revealed in the end.


  2. Gennifer told me about "The Baby". She said he comes every year. He brings a paddle and asks people to spank him.

    Also, besides doing all of the catering, Gennifer helps dress the performers. She's responsible for alot of those x's and pasties.

    She's been trying to talk me in to going for a couple of years and I promised her that I'll do it next year. Maybe it could be you, Flannery, Franklin, Hot Lemon, Norton and Country Monk. I'll want to be surrounded by friends and no, I'm NOT spanking "The Baby"!

  3. "It was only by the glint of her pasties that I could distinguish my $10 bill from my $5."

    That's the best sentence I've read in a long time Doc, bravo!

  4. Doc, the dude with the cowboy hat and speedo has seared an image in my head that I'm not sure I want to carry around with me for the day.

  5. I think you should have worn your Bowler hat and a smile - and nothing else but black tape!

  6. Egads! This sounds like one interesting evening.

  7. whazzis? he could pull off his moustache?? Hell, you shoulda got one at the Emporium or Big Fun on your way out there!!

    ELIZABETH: you're on re: the lot of us cenobites here @ Possum Lodge coming out!! And if you won't spank the baby, will you spank the monkey??

    SKYDAD: just so long as the tape was in an X...

  8. Hot Lemon,

    How do you manage to both embarrass and amuse me at the same time?

  9. You are quire the sophisticate, Doc.

  10. Sounds eerily like the general area (Dupont Circle) where I worked in Washington, D.C. for a few years.

  11. All right, kids:

    Doc may have been a bit underdressed, but if you have not in the fetish scene or have fetish clothes,going underdressed in basic black anything is the best way to go. Doc didn't look out of place, he just "wasn't seen", so to speak.

    I am responsible for having distributed the electrical tape, but that is the extent of my guilt with other people's boobs this year. I mostly tied up the corsets.

    I consider myself a pretty open-minded person, but the Baby scares me. I know deep down he is harmless, but I just can't get past it. I always smile at him when I do see him and he has never approached me or anyone else in a crude manner, but I just can't...well, you know.

    That's so neat to hear the perspective of someone who isn't familiar with any of the people or the scene.
    The cowboy is hot shit, I just adore him. Same concept as New York's Naked Cowboy, but with smaller undies.

    And Doc's count would be wrong ;( less than half the crowd is usually cross-dressers, but we do get quite a few, at least 100.
    The majority of the crowd is gay or bi.

    Good write-up, doc!


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