||[Aug. 23rd, 2004|01:11 pm]
Whole lotta labia.
|[||how ya feelin'?
Two nicely brief stories. One sweet, one shitty, because as we learned this year: I am not a very nice person.
First, the shitty, for Caitlin.
Pennsic is staffed with a full-time corps of Security, Registration, Education, and Medical staffs. As well as the odd little bits here and there doing things like bringing me brownies while I was on Troll duty.. anyway.. this is just to say that when I say "Security stopped in" I just mean that the staff was out doing a round to make sure we weren't burning ourselves down, not that we'd gotten the cops called. Although we've done that too. But that's another story. One that involves a drunk guy in a dress singing "She's a BRICK house.." over and over. But we go not there. Anyway.
So I'm standing there in the pub one night with the Wigeon (Mym's daughter) talking about nothing in particular and drinking a Pabst Blue Ribbon with complete and utter shamelessness when I see two golf carts pull up and out come four security guys. I call them Skeezy Old Guy, Skeezy Young Guy, Troll, and Creeeeeepy. They come wandering in and give the traditional (and wildly stupid) Pennsic security greeting "Are you feeling Secure?"
No, dipshit, you're drinking swill beer and riding in a golf cart barely large enough to carry your belly. I feel more secure at home when the barn cat sits on the front porch. But that wasn't what I said. I smiled real big and said "I'm feeling terribly secure, thank you!" Playing a game of "Don't Look Over There, Look at the Cleavage!" goes a long way towards distracting them from the young teenager behind me.
Skeezy Old Guy then leers blatantly at it (the cleavage, that is, not the teenager) while Creeeeepy reaches down and extends his hand, I put my hand in his and he introduces himself as Baron Something of the Somewhere Far Away and then he kisses my hand quite nicely in the air just above my skin. I smiled and said "Thanks for not licking my knuckles." At which point Skeezy Young Guy retracts his recently extended hand and Troll's eyes get real big.
"Haven't you ever seen guys do that?" I ask. "They first make the uncomfortably intense eye contact, then they never break eye contact while bending over your hand, and then THEY LICK YOUR KNUCKLES!!" Skeezy Young Guy says "And that's bad?"
I said "Assume that the traditional garments only allowed you to see a woman's face and hand skin, no other. Assume that you had to translate your wishes for her body into your first impression. Do you really want to pick up a woman's hand and do the rough equivalent of creepy stalking and bad head?" I think SYG just paled slightly and didn't speak.
Creeeeeepy on the other hand decided that I was his soul mate and announced that while they had to leave, get back to making us secure, I'm sure, he got off shift at midnight and he'd be sure to stop by to see me again.
I politely didn't mention that I'd be off disinfecting myself in the meantime and as they walked out the door I hollered "Have fun! And remember, knuckle licking equals bad head!"
Yeah, he didn't come back.