That Time I...Kinkfest-ed!
Aside from all the kinky business I learned in classes and in the dungeon, there were a few other things that stuck post Kinkfest.
1. People have really strong reactions to being offered golf pencils to fill out surveys with. The cruelest words I heard all weekend were people refusing my gift of tiny writing implements.
2. There are two kinds of people…those that understand an event is made possible by dedicated organizers and volunteers. These people clean up after themselves, thank everyone, and fill out surveys so next year can be even better. And there are those selfish butt clowns that spill coffee everywhere, say things like “fuck off with your surveys” and complain about everything.
3. It was interesting how differently I was treated as a volunteer by presenters depending on where they fell on the sub or Dom, leather or rope, and femme or masculine scales. Makes me realize why I hang out largely with ropey queer switches for the most part.
4. Being in that space as a social justice warrior who also needed to be a friendly volunteer was…let’s say interesting. People I’ve called out for being problematic tended to either pretend we’d ever had words, as if we’re still friends (ha!) or avoid me. That last group I had great fun being so saccharine sweet to that one tripped while doing a double take at my smile.
I especially enjoyed bothering a former shitty (literally, he let his cat shit on my everything and forbid me from using the kitchen) roommate who kept glaring at me from under his fedora then trying to slither away as quickly as possible. Him I put on the biggest nicest smiles for and frequently just happened to end up having giggly conversations right next to.
5. It’s really weird when your “real” life and kinky life overlap. Seeing people out of your normal context is strange!
6. I never want to see golf pencils ever again. (Bonus points to whoever can come up with a hot scene incorporating tiny pencils.)
7. Con drop is a fucking asshole. Especially when it hits at the same time as PMS. Even more so when work and roommate stress pile on there.
Speaking of which drop is holding onto me like an evil goblin at the moment so the sexy run down of my ridiculous antics over the weekend will have to wait until next week. In the meantime I’ll be here in bed watching bad TV. Please send me some ropey hugs!