Let it be known that I am not a cocktease

So I taunted you with the promise of a post about Saturday night's sex tradeshow excursion, but I've been kind of at odds about it. Blogging about sex and it's accoutrements is not really my bailiwick. I usually leave that up to the Petras of the writing world; they do it, and they do it well.

So to speak.

I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm very glad people share these things. Otherwise I might have been startled to find myself sipping a Cosmopolitan while surrounded by every shape, size, color and flavor of dildo ever created.

(As it was I could casually browse the merchandise and say things like, "Oohhh, this one is a DUAL vibe," without appearing like a complete idiot. I hope.)

I am going to point out here that I don't go out much anymore. It's not that I don't like to have a good time - it's just that I wrung the last drop of appeal out of the "loud bar and bad cover band" scene ages ago, and not a lot else happens around here. So when opportunities like this arise (heh - double entendre anyone?), you jump on them (and again! Okay, I'm done). Except that so does everybody else.

And it's a small city, folks. In a teeming crowd of drunks carrying bags of sex toys, I ran into at LEAST five people that I never wanted to have to picture having sex. Ever.

Because "Taboo - The Naughty But Nice Sex Show" was less of a tradeshow and more of an opportunity for many vendors to hawk their wares. Which is fine, I'm up for an evening of cocktails and shopping. But a couple of acquaintances were awfully proud of their purchases, and I'm cursed with a vivid imagination. Shudder.

There were lotions, potions, costumes, jewelry, supplements (including some super sketchy 'all natural party drug' that you 'sold to your friends who sold to THEIR friends'), piercing, hot tubbing, pole dancing classes, and every kind of sex toy you could possibly imagine.

And some you probably didn't want to. I'm looking at YOU, "J-Ho blow up doll".

A few stray thoughts:

"Oh, look, people in cages."

"Glass dildos? Really? I mean, it looks pretty sturdy, but still...I have had enough stitches down there thankyouverymuch."

"Oooh! Free glitter!"

"Is shopping at the "Five Dollar" rack a good idea?"

To be honest we were hoping for a bit more "entertainment". There was supposed to be a drag show, but I guess we missed it, as well as the belly dancing. There were seminars (including "Why Pyrex glass?" which might have been helpful), but...seminars? After 3 drinks? There was a stage show featuring a local vendor, which was okay and had some lovely physical specimens, but that was about it. There was body painting, but nothing groundbreaking, and the models just stood there.

FoN said, "I thought there'd be more wandering entertainment." I thought so, too, but would you really want to amble half-naked through a packed floor of semi-rednecks that had been drinking all night?

(The answer to that is a resounding, "How much liquor have I been plied with?").

So, it was a couple of hours of good entertainment before we headed off to the loud bar and cover band*. Here's the girls with their evenings purchase (ten bucks! with batteries! fits in your purse for emergencies! and waterproof. SOLID BUY, people):




Yes, I bought one too. And, much like the post about my uterus, this is probably the one and only time I'll mention THAT.

(Probably should have sprung for the latex Batgirl costume though).



*It was a GOOD cover band, so it was still fun.