It is Pride month, and in Toronto that is a pretty big deal. I always ignore the big parade because the idea of travelling to a spot that will be jammed full of noisy people is more terrifying than exciting, but I certainly support the whole thing - from a safe distance. Toronto has had some struggles in recent years with figuring out who gets to be in Pride, especially with the police. The police seem to think that everyone should just forget their role in attacking queer people and sparking Pride in the first place, but faugh to that.
That part seems easy to me. Keep out the people who actively assaulted and harassed you in years past.
It is trickier for me to know what to think about banks. Banks love to be part of pride, using rainbow symbols, having floats, etc. On one hand I am hesitant to embrace big corporations trying to redeem their images with temporary shows of progressive thought, but on the other hand their money and enthusiasm does amplify the Pride signal. I have seen plenty of people giving opinions, and they don't seem to find much in the way of agreement.
Pride should be about queer people, goes one line of thought. Scrubbing the reputation of staid businesses isn't what Pride is about. Banks would have been just as happy condemning queer people if that was good for the bottom line, so why should they be allowed in?
But during Pride month there are so many rainbows, and that has to matter to young queer kids trying to find acceptance. Just seeing all those businesses desperately trying to show how much they support queer people is something in itself. It also sends a message to the bigots who aren't going to change their minds - it says that bigotry isn't welcome in public, and you had best keep your gay bashing to yourself. That helps in ways that are hard to measure.
It isn't totally clear cut either way, at least to my eyes. Right now it feels like big companies trying to be part of Pride is a net positive, but that comes with the caveat that it will only persist as long as they see profit in it. They are uneasy allies, right now, people who are helping out but who could backstab at any time, even if they probably won't. I would probably have lots of extra feelings, maybe feelings on both sides of the issue, if I were queer myself and had a greater emotional stake in it. Having lots of queer friends and partners doesn't grant that same lived experience, even if it does cement me firmly on one side.
The Pride organization seems to agree with me. Take their money, let them spread the message, but keep an eye on them, just in case.
Wednesday, June 26, 2019
Wednesday, June 19, 2019
Is it just me?
In my experience dating various people while being polyamorous I have found meeting metamours to be a challenge. (Metamours being people who are dating someone I am dating.) In the early going there were a couple of times that I definitely felt intimidated by a metamour, but only prior to actually meeting them. The millionaire pilot who was also taller than me was a stand out example of this - I never actually met him, but I felt that insecurity, no doubt about it.
But every time I have met someone I always ended up feeling a sense of comfort and relief upon realizing that this isn't some superhero, just a person. Someone who has strong points and weaknesses, stuff that is pretty and stuff that is not. No need to be worried!
When people have met me in this situation though there has been a consistent reaction including some combination of insecurity, jealousy, and fear. I have been mulling it over the past little while and I just don't know if this sort of thing is universal, mostly just among straight / bi guys, or if it is particular to me.
In theory people don't need to treat this like a competition. I have lots of friends of widely varying looks, skills, attitudes, and personalities. There is no need for a friend of mine to be worried about me meeting a new better friend and leaving them behind! Romantic or sexual relationships could be just the same... but they don't generally seem to be. I blame culture, mostly, and our instinctive reactions that treat attraction like it exists in a environment of scarcity rather than abundance.
I don't have the experience to judge if this sort of thing pans out the same way amongst women or nonbinary people. That isn't my life! My guess is that it is worse among men, in large part because of the way online dating works these days, with women bombarded with offers and men desperately seeking any response at all. I don't have data to back that hunch though.
I also can't tell how much of it is me, or even what parts of me might be contributing to other people's struggles. It is easy to see how you could describe me in ways that would contribute to insecurity - "Hey, I am dating a new guy, he is a tall, musclebound weightlifter who studied math in university and designs his own games. Also he has the sex drive and self confidence normally associated with mythological deities!" That is a recipe for creating insecurity, and while it does not paint a really accurate picture, it is close enough to the truth to be a problem.
A significant part of it is the emphasis that men place on height and strength, I think. It doesn't even have to be conscious to be there, a deep primal worry that if you get in a fight with this person, they will crush you. Tell people that this is a silly thing to worry about all you want, it won't stop them thinking about it. Thing is, I know that size matters in the creation of insecurity and jealousy, but I don't know how much it actually affects the final outcome. Do people just find something to be insecure about, no matter how innocuous the person they are considering?
My guess is that insecurity, worry, and jealousy before meeting or at an early meeting is worse among men than among non men, and I further guess that it is worst among straight men. Also me being big probably makes that even more so in my specific case. But there isn't anything I can do about it, really. I already don't have any intention of stealing anybody from anybody, but that rational assessment has jack to do with how people end up feeling. I wish I didn't create such feelings in other people, but there is no way to achieve that.
A lot may just come down to feeling like you are enough. If you feel that, truly believe it, you have little to fear. Even if a person decides they aren't going to be around you any more, there are other people. Life goes on.
If you don't think you are enough, then you are probably doomed to be insecure no matter what sort of people are involved, and there is no way I can make you feel like you are enough.
I don't want to be different - I am fine with the way I am. I do wish though that I didn't create these unpleasant waves in the world around me just by existing.
But every time I have met someone I always ended up feeling a sense of comfort and relief upon realizing that this isn't some superhero, just a person. Someone who has strong points and weaknesses, stuff that is pretty and stuff that is not. No need to be worried!
When people have met me in this situation though there has been a consistent reaction including some combination of insecurity, jealousy, and fear. I have been mulling it over the past little while and I just don't know if this sort of thing is universal, mostly just among straight / bi guys, or if it is particular to me.
In theory people don't need to treat this like a competition. I have lots of friends of widely varying looks, skills, attitudes, and personalities. There is no need for a friend of mine to be worried about me meeting a new better friend and leaving them behind! Romantic or sexual relationships could be just the same... but they don't generally seem to be. I blame culture, mostly, and our instinctive reactions that treat attraction like it exists in a environment of scarcity rather than abundance.
I don't have the experience to judge if this sort of thing pans out the same way amongst women or nonbinary people. That isn't my life! My guess is that it is worse among men, in large part because of the way online dating works these days, with women bombarded with offers and men desperately seeking any response at all. I don't have data to back that hunch though.
I also can't tell how much of it is me, or even what parts of me might be contributing to other people's struggles. It is easy to see how you could describe me in ways that would contribute to insecurity - "Hey, I am dating a new guy, he is a tall, musclebound weightlifter who studied math in university and designs his own games. Also he has the sex drive and self confidence normally associated with mythological deities!" That is a recipe for creating insecurity, and while it does not paint a really accurate picture, it is close enough to the truth to be a problem.
A significant part of it is the emphasis that men place on height and strength, I think. It doesn't even have to be conscious to be there, a deep primal worry that if you get in a fight with this person, they will crush you. Tell people that this is a silly thing to worry about all you want, it won't stop them thinking about it. Thing is, I know that size matters in the creation of insecurity and jealousy, but I don't know how much it actually affects the final outcome. Do people just find something to be insecure about, no matter how innocuous the person they are considering?
My guess is that insecurity, worry, and jealousy before meeting or at an early meeting is worse among men than among non men, and I further guess that it is worst among straight men. Also me being big probably makes that even more so in my specific case. But there isn't anything I can do about it, really. I already don't have any intention of stealing anybody from anybody, but that rational assessment has jack to do with how people end up feeling. I wish I didn't create such feelings in other people, but there is no way to achieve that.
A lot may just come down to feeling like you are enough. If you feel that, truly believe it, you have little to fear. Even if a person decides they aren't going to be around you any more, there are other people. Life goes on.
If you don't think you are enough, then you are probably doomed to be insecure no matter what sort of people are involved, and there is no way I can make you feel like you are enough.
I don't want to be different - I am fine with the way I am. I do wish though that I didn't create these unpleasant waves in the world around me just by existing.
Monday, June 17, 2019
The true enemy revealed
I have many enemies. Pants. Shoes. Ninjas dressed in yellow. But one of my greatest foes is doors.
There are a few acceptable reasons to have a door. My fridge door, for example, keeps my food cold. My oven door keeps me from roasting to death. My balcony door keeps me from freezing in winter. These are annoying doors, but their utility outweighs their intrinsic evil.
But my home is *full* of doors with no redeeming value. Recently I struck a blow against the tyranny of doors and took off the two cupboard doors that have most annoyed me in the past. Now my kitchen is far superior.
It is glorious. Beautiful, functional, clean, neat. Now when someone is using the counter and I want a glass, I don't have to caution them about danger, wait for them to move back, open the door, reach around it, and fumble to get the right glass. Instead I just reach in and get it, smooth as anything.
You know how often I bash my head on no door at all? NEVER. You know how often I bash my head on the old cupboard doors? SOMETIMES. Never > sometimes, when it comes to head/door bashery.
I can just look in and see everything. No opening one door, realizing the thing I want is behind the other door, and then opening that. Instead of a piece of furniture whose primary function was to impede my vision and movement, I have empty space, nothing at all, and both my vision and movement run wild and free.
People will no doubt claim that you need bathroom doors. FAUGH I say. Bathroom doors just cause mirrors to get foggy and block access to the towels that are hanging on the wall behind the door. People have bodies under their clothes. They poop on a regular basis. We don't need a door to pretend that we aren't naked under it all, or to perpetuate the fiction that we go to the bathroom just to play Candy Crush on our phones.
But when a door is taken off, the resulting free door, loosed from its bondage, must be dealt with. The solution I have come up with is to store doors behind my curtains in my bedroom, up against the floor to ceiling window. If you are across the street from my condo you would clearly see a door up against the window, and you might wonder why. The answer is that it doesn't bother me there. Those curtails are always closed, it does not block my sight. I don't want to go through the window and fall to my death, so my movement is free. Also, I am extremely unlikely to bash my head on it.
While I would rather simply smash the doors, rend them to pieces, watch tiny shards fly past my head as I deliver the deathblow with an axe, this is not to be. If I end up selling this place someday the new buyers will insist on their being doors. They will be convinced that plates must be kept hidden, washing machines must be disguised, and food needs to be sequestered away. We can't have visitors thinking that we clean our clothes, or eat! What a social disaster that would be!
So the doors will stay until such time as I must reattach them to coddle the foolishness of others. I despise doors, but not enough to lose money over them. I am not *that* far gone.
There are a few acceptable reasons to have a door. My fridge door, for example, keeps my food cold. My oven door keeps me from roasting to death. My balcony door keeps me from freezing in winter. These are annoying doors, but their utility outweighs their intrinsic evil.
But my home is *full* of doors with no redeeming value. Recently I struck a blow against the tyranny of doors and took off the two cupboard doors that have most annoyed me in the past. Now my kitchen is far superior.
It is glorious. Beautiful, functional, clean, neat. Now when someone is using the counter and I want a glass, I don't have to caution them about danger, wait for them to move back, open the door, reach around it, and fumble to get the right glass. Instead I just reach in and get it, smooth as anything.
You know how often I bash my head on no door at all? NEVER. You know how often I bash my head on the old cupboard doors? SOMETIMES. Never > sometimes, when it comes to head/door bashery.
I can just look in and see everything. No opening one door, realizing the thing I want is behind the other door, and then opening that. Instead of a piece of furniture whose primary function was to impede my vision and movement, I have empty space, nothing at all, and both my vision and movement run wild and free.
People will no doubt claim that you need bathroom doors. FAUGH I say. Bathroom doors just cause mirrors to get foggy and block access to the towels that are hanging on the wall behind the door. People have bodies under their clothes. They poop on a regular basis. We don't need a door to pretend that we aren't naked under it all, or to perpetuate the fiction that we go to the bathroom just to play Candy Crush on our phones.
But when a door is taken off, the resulting free door, loosed from its bondage, must be dealt with. The solution I have come up with is to store doors behind my curtains in my bedroom, up against the floor to ceiling window. If you are across the street from my condo you would clearly see a door up against the window, and you might wonder why. The answer is that it doesn't bother me there. Those curtails are always closed, it does not block my sight. I don't want to go through the window and fall to my death, so my movement is free. Also, I am extremely unlikely to bash my head on it.
While I would rather simply smash the doors, rend them to pieces, watch tiny shards fly past my head as I deliver the deathblow with an axe, this is not to be. If I end up selling this place someday the new buyers will insist on their being doors. They will be convinced that plates must be kept hidden, washing machines must be disguised, and food needs to be sequestered away. We can't have visitors thinking that we clean our clothes, or eat! What a social disaster that would be!
So the doors will stay until such time as I must reattach them to coddle the foolishness of others. I despise doors, but not enough to lose money over them. I am not *that* far gone.
Friday, June 14, 2019
Burnout
The Fyre Festival is an example of legendary incompetence turning into spectacular failure. It was a festival pitched as a luxury music experience in a remote, tropical location that was superbly marketed, but which completely failed in execution. People who were promised villas on the beach got leaky tents, chefs serving sushi were replaced with cheese sandwiches, and all the bands pulled out and the festival collapsed after everyone had already arrived.
I just watched a documentary on Netflix called Fyre about the festival, cataloging its initial meteoric rise and subsequent implosion. It was clear that this wasn't a series of unfortunate accidents, but rather calculated fraud layered on top of idiotic optimism and mismanagement. I liked the show a lot, and I recommend it if you want to watch evil fools fail.
The thing about the documentary that I found most fascinating though is the way they marketed the festival. They got social media influencers to post about it and make it a meme, and sold out all of their heinously expensive tickets in no time at all. I know that social media influencers are a thing... but the idea of following them, much less buying shit they are shilling, boggles my mind.
Why would I care what any of those people say? Aren't they just mostly spending their days composing photos to make you think their lives are better than yours, and then trying to sell you shit that in theory will give you the life they are pretending to have?
I think I have a weird relationship to my phone compared to most people. Health professionals insist that you need to leave your phone away from your bed so your notifications don't keep you awake all night. I can't fathom this. Why the fuck would you have your phone near your bed? If anything gives me notifications I uninstall it! Stop bothering me!
I can look at an instagram model and appreciate the curves, or marvel at the gigantic biceps. But following them to get more pictures? Nonsensical, is what that is. It isn't that I am claiming some perfect rationalism that makes me immune to sales pitches (though I am about as resistant as people get), rather I honestly can't fathom what it is that goes on in people's brains when they follow social media personalities so fervently.
Following celebrities? I am barely interested in following people I actually know, and I curate my facebook feed to maximize 'people who link thoughtful and clever articles'.
But apparently just knowing how to get followers on instagram is a career option, so apparently it is me who is the freak. Nobody is paying me gazillions of dollars or offering free stuff just for a mention on my blog, so by the logic of capitalism I am doing this *wrong*.
I guess I should start posting pictures of my fancy life, spending time oiling my arms and learning to use filters to put up muscle shots, and telling people they can have it all.
Or not. Because the prospect of doing that regularly makes my skin crawl.
I just watched a documentary on Netflix called Fyre about the festival, cataloging its initial meteoric rise and subsequent implosion. It was clear that this wasn't a series of unfortunate accidents, but rather calculated fraud layered on top of idiotic optimism and mismanagement. I liked the show a lot, and I recommend it if you want to watch evil fools fail.
The thing about the documentary that I found most fascinating though is the way they marketed the festival. They got social media influencers to post about it and make it a meme, and sold out all of their heinously expensive tickets in no time at all. I know that social media influencers are a thing... but the idea of following them, much less buying shit they are shilling, boggles my mind.
Why would I care what any of those people say? Aren't they just mostly spending their days composing photos to make you think their lives are better than yours, and then trying to sell you shit that in theory will give you the life they are pretending to have?
I think I have a weird relationship to my phone compared to most people. Health professionals insist that you need to leave your phone away from your bed so your notifications don't keep you awake all night. I can't fathom this. Why the fuck would you have your phone near your bed? If anything gives me notifications I uninstall it! Stop bothering me!
I can look at an instagram model and appreciate the curves, or marvel at the gigantic biceps. But following them to get more pictures? Nonsensical, is what that is. It isn't that I am claiming some perfect rationalism that makes me immune to sales pitches (though I am about as resistant as people get), rather I honestly can't fathom what it is that goes on in people's brains when they follow social media personalities so fervently.
Following celebrities? I am barely interested in following people I actually know, and I curate my facebook feed to maximize 'people who link thoughtful and clever articles'.
But apparently just knowing how to get followers on instagram is a career option, so apparently it is me who is the freak. Nobody is paying me gazillions of dollars or offering free stuff just for a mention on my blog, so by the logic of capitalism I am doing this *wrong*.
I guess I should start posting pictures of my fancy life, spending time oiling my arms and learning to use filters to put up muscle shots, and telling people they can have it all.
Or not. Because the prospect of doing that regularly makes my skin crawl.
Tuesday, June 11, 2019
Want what you want
I just read a Savage Love post that got me thinking about what people think is okay to demand in a relationship. In the post the letter writer complained that twenty years ago his wife said that she would never kiss him or give him oral sex again, and he was looking for permission to divorce her. (Kinda late, though, wouldn't you say?)
Dan basically told him he could divorce his wife if he wanted. Because obviously if you are unhappy you are allowed to get a divorce!
The comments afterwards though were interesting. Some people thought that withdrawing oral sex in such a way was unacceptable, some thought that it was fine but withdrawing kissing was unacceptable. There was a lively debate about exactly how much physical intimacy should be required in a relationship.
I think so many people, nearly all the commenters included, miss the boat on this one. The key is this: There is NO universal standard. There is no thing that your partner has to do such that not doing it is righteous and proper justification for breaking up. You can break up righteously any time you want, for any reason or no reason. You do not owe anyone a relationship.
There are the basic decencies we owe everyone, of course. But a partner can demand kissing. Or they can demand no kissing. They can demand flowers every day, sexy Santa/Elf roleplay, living in different cities, or eighteen children by age 40. And you can demand your own things, and if each person's demands are not met, they can leave.
I would say that we do owe each other honesty about our demands. Trotting them out only after a partner has made a critical commitment is shitty. On the other hand, people do change, and we don't have to be the same person for our entire lives.
In so many relationships, in advice columns and in real life, I see people asking the question "Is this thing my partner did so bad that I am allowed to break up with them now?" They don't phrase it like that of course but this is truly what they are asking. We have ingrained this idea that relationships must be forever and it is so destructive. We idolize the idea that a relationship that ends has failed, even though there is no sense in that - a relationship should be judged on what it brings, not whether or not someone died.
You can end a relationship any time you want. You don't need permission, and you don't need an ironclad reason aside from 'I am not happy with this relationship'.
I wish more people thought this way.
Dan basically told him he could divorce his wife if he wanted. Because obviously if you are unhappy you are allowed to get a divorce!
The comments afterwards though were interesting. Some people thought that withdrawing oral sex in such a way was unacceptable, some thought that it was fine but withdrawing kissing was unacceptable. There was a lively debate about exactly how much physical intimacy should be required in a relationship.
I think so many people, nearly all the commenters included, miss the boat on this one. The key is this: There is NO universal standard. There is no thing that your partner has to do such that not doing it is righteous and proper justification for breaking up. You can break up righteously any time you want, for any reason or no reason. You do not owe anyone a relationship.
There are the basic decencies we owe everyone, of course. But a partner can demand kissing. Or they can demand no kissing. They can demand flowers every day, sexy Santa/Elf roleplay, living in different cities, or eighteen children by age 40. And you can demand your own things, and if each person's demands are not met, they can leave.
I would say that we do owe each other honesty about our demands. Trotting them out only after a partner has made a critical commitment is shitty. On the other hand, people do change, and we don't have to be the same person for our entire lives.
In so many relationships, in advice columns and in real life, I see people asking the question "Is this thing my partner did so bad that I am allowed to break up with them now?" They don't phrase it like that of course but this is truly what they are asking. We have ingrained this idea that relationships must be forever and it is so destructive. We idolize the idea that a relationship that ends has failed, even though there is no sense in that - a relationship should be judged on what it brings, not whether or not someone died.
You can end a relationship any time you want. You don't need permission, and you don't need an ironclad reason aside from 'I am not happy with this relationship'.
I wish more people thought this way.
Monday, June 10, 2019
Bag of bags
The Liberal government here in Canada just announced that they are going to be banning single use plastic by 2021. Naturally this isn't going to be a *full* ban. They will cave to all kinds business pressure in the name of 'being competitive' but hopefully a substantial amount of single use plastic will stop.
The phrase competitive is constantly brought up in these sorts of debates as though it is some kind of magic bullet, when it so often is meaningless or silly. Who cares if businesses are inconvenienced, if they are selling in the Canadian market against other businesses here who are equally inconvenienced? If your unique business model requires generating loads of trash and plastic waste and your competitors do not, you *should* go out of business because you are depending on hurting society and government largesse in cleanup to maintain your bottom line, and the rest of us shouldn't put up with that. If everyone in competition is doing it, then you all change your practices and prices together, no big deal.
Naturally the Conservatives are against this, because of the effects it might have on business. This is something I always find hilarious, as though the important thing in the world is business. Don't worry about humans - corporations are the crucial thing, goes their thinking. Corporations should exist to serve humans, not the other way around. If a decision is good for people and bad for corporations... then it is good for people! Easy!
I personally try to work on not using single use plastic, but it is rough. When you are a tiny slice of the market it isn't in most companies best interests to provide you with options, so we really need the government to bring the big club down and force it. I prefer soft enforcement, like a $1 tax on every disposable plastic bag, for example, to hard enforcement, but I will take what I can get.
If only we could actually elect someone willing to put environmental issues like this as high on the agenda as their impact on people actually warrants... but for the moment that is a bit of a pipe dream.
The phrase competitive is constantly brought up in these sorts of debates as though it is some kind of magic bullet, when it so often is meaningless or silly. Who cares if businesses are inconvenienced, if they are selling in the Canadian market against other businesses here who are equally inconvenienced? If your unique business model requires generating loads of trash and plastic waste and your competitors do not, you *should* go out of business because you are depending on hurting society and government largesse in cleanup to maintain your bottom line, and the rest of us shouldn't put up with that. If everyone in competition is doing it, then you all change your practices and prices together, no big deal.
Naturally the Conservatives are against this, because of the effects it might have on business. This is something I always find hilarious, as though the important thing in the world is business. Don't worry about humans - corporations are the crucial thing, goes their thinking. Corporations should exist to serve humans, not the other way around. If a decision is good for people and bad for corporations... then it is good for people! Easy!
I personally try to work on not using single use plastic, but it is rough. When you are a tiny slice of the market it isn't in most companies best interests to provide you with options, so we really need the government to bring the big club down and force it. I prefer soft enforcement, like a $1 tax on every disposable plastic bag, for example, to hard enforcement, but I will take what I can get.
If only we could actually elect someone willing to put environmental issues like this as high on the agenda as their impact on people actually warrants... but for the moment that is a bit of a pipe dream.
Thursday, June 6, 2019
One track mind
A couple days ago I went to a sex club. I won't actually be talking about the sex though, because the non sex stuff was actually more interesting. It revealed some things about my brain, and made me wonder if other people are like me in this way. I don't actually know!
Part of the evening was an icebreaker event to get people comfortable and mixing it up. This is a great feature for me because while the idea of sexing up a bunch of hot randoms at a club sounds fun, I know a lot of women get approached way too much in these situations and I don't want to be *that guy* who makes things shitty for them. Having a structured way to get familiar with people is ideal for me.
The first icebreaker was sock wrestling. Two people get a sock each, put on that sock, and then wrestle. The winner is the one who gets the other person's sock off first. Of course being a sex club the crowd ranged from people wearing something to people wearing nothing, so the potential for sexyness was high. I, of course, was naked, because fuck clothes.
The organizer started it up, and she challenged us, asking who would wrestle her. A woman about the same size stepped in and they fought. The organizer won convincingly, through a combination of raw athleticism, aggressiveness, and practice. Then she asked for more people to wrestle, and naturally I waved my hand about. Pick me, pick me! Ooh, ooh, pick me!
She picked me.
I was the tallest and strongest one there by a fair margin, so I wanted to be the first into the ring. If someone was going to fight me, I wanted them to know what they were getting into. A woman immediately stepped forward to fight me. She was pretty average in size, but she gave me a 'IMMA CRUSH YOU FOOL' look that made me optimistic that this would be a good fight. Also she was super hot, both because she was conventionally attractive, but additionally because her aesthetic was exactly my style.
But her attractiveness and nudity had no effect on me. Normally in this sort of situation I would be wound right up, incredibly sensitive to any touch. I would be acutely aware of exactly how we touched, and every nerve would be trembling, waiting to fire. Not this time. The only thing in my brain was the desire to compete, to fight, to strive for victory. The organizer said go, and we rushed each other without hesitation.
It became instantly clear that my opponent was fast, strong, and flexible. Also she wasn't holding back in the slightest, and neither was I. Normally if you ask me 'hey, did you touch a boob in that situation?' I can tell you *exactly* how much I touched a boob. The fucking memory is seared into my brain. In this case I have no idea. We were wrestling for a little while so I probably touched lots of things, but I couldn't tell you what they were at all - my brain was entirely occupied with winning. That what we were doing might be sexy didn't exist; it was eclipsed by the struggle.
She was faster and more agile than me, but I had a large reach, mass, and strength advantage, and I ripped her sock off without allowing her to get to mine. She kipped up easily, demonstrating that agility, and I shook her hand and said "Good fight." Afterwards we talked about it, and she seemed really happy that she had a real challenge, as that was why she immediately volunteered to fight me. We were both pleased that it was tough and close - losing wouldn't have bothered me, but I wanted a challenge, and I wanted an opponent who was able to take my best efforts, and I got that.
*Then* I got horny, and unbridled desire set in. Other people wrestled, but only had limited attention to pay. Hot is great and all, but combine that with physical competence and a "I will fight you, no matter how big you are!" attitude? Ker Pow.
But there was more icebreaking to come.
Twister is a thing children do at parties. Also a really solid icebreaker for mostly naked adults. During round 1 I got bumped out fairly quickly, as you tend to when there are 10 people on a twister board. On the final round though I managed to hang in there until it was just me and the organizer left, and she made it her mission to get me out. You can do this in twister by just hanging out on your end of the board and trying to win via physical supremacy... or you can get in right on top of the other person and make it interesting. Also sexy.
I am not particularly good at twister. My flexibility is suspect, though my reach does help. But I am bloody determined, and I managed to stay in despite the fire in my muscles ramping higher and higher. My opponent decided to make things more difficult for me by distracting me, so she ground herself against my leg and rubbed her breasts on me.
I noted the grinding and touching, and thought that she was doing a good job, getting the crowd into it, and making sure the people were entertained. But it had no effect on me. I was going to WIN. I even thought "Well, I will remember this fondly later, once the match is over." My legs were twitching with strain and I could feel that I was not going to be able to continue - it was becoming too much.
Finally things came to an end. She was underneath me, both of us all tied up like pretzels, when she just lifted her body up, hoisting me off the ground a little, and my hands lost contact. Game over dude! Whether or not she was cheating by the official rules of Twister I don't know, but I was happy to accept the end of the game either way. I told her I was glad to lose because I was about to die and stumbled off. I spent the next hour struggling to walk because my leg muscles were too beat, so I am glad it didn't go longer.
Now in retrospect that was hot as fuck. But at the time? Ice cold. No reaction. I think for some people that would be expected but I am the horniest man alive - that old silly stereotype of men thinking about sex every 5 minutes makes me go "Hah, amateurs." But when competition is in the offing, that totally shuts down and the only thing I think about is striving for victory.
It isn't the winning that I aim for though. It is attempting to win. Pushing myself as hard as I can go. Running to the edge of my capabilities. Win or lose, the key is to play with all you have. That is where the greatest joy is found.
Winning is nice and all, don't get me wrong. It just isn't the key to capturing my brain like intense competition is.
I suspect most people are happy being partly in each world. Sexy games can be fun because you are both playing a game and flirting, doing each in part. But I don't do halfways like that. If I am competing, that is the only thing I am doing. If I am having sex, that is the only thing I am doing. Straddling the line between those worlds is not a thing I do.
This has a lot to do with my divided mind. Director can multitask to some extent - usually trying to accomplish something while worrying about other things. Passion though? He does only one thing. Nothing else even exists. While I was wrestling and twisting I was totally Passion. Doing exactly one thing with all my focus.
Maybe if I ever go back to work I will skip sales and go straight to organizing sexy events. Getting paid to play naked twister seems like a pretty sweet gig to me.
Part of the evening was an icebreaker event to get people comfortable and mixing it up. This is a great feature for me because while the idea of sexing up a bunch of hot randoms at a club sounds fun, I know a lot of women get approached way too much in these situations and I don't want to be *that guy* who makes things shitty for them. Having a structured way to get familiar with people is ideal for me.
The first icebreaker was sock wrestling. Two people get a sock each, put on that sock, and then wrestle. The winner is the one who gets the other person's sock off first. Of course being a sex club the crowd ranged from people wearing something to people wearing nothing, so the potential for sexyness was high. I, of course, was naked, because fuck clothes.
The organizer started it up, and she challenged us, asking who would wrestle her. A woman about the same size stepped in and they fought. The organizer won convincingly, through a combination of raw athleticism, aggressiveness, and practice. Then she asked for more people to wrestle, and naturally I waved my hand about. Pick me, pick me! Ooh, ooh, pick me!
She picked me.
I was the tallest and strongest one there by a fair margin, so I wanted to be the first into the ring. If someone was going to fight me, I wanted them to know what they were getting into. A woman immediately stepped forward to fight me. She was pretty average in size, but she gave me a 'IMMA CRUSH YOU FOOL' look that made me optimistic that this would be a good fight. Also she was super hot, both because she was conventionally attractive, but additionally because her aesthetic was exactly my style.
But her attractiveness and nudity had no effect on me. Normally in this sort of situation I would be wound right up, incredibly sensitive to any touch. I would be acutely aware of exactly how we touched, and every nerve would be trembling, waiting to fire. Not this time. The only thing in my brain was the desire to compete, to fight, to strive for victory. The organizer said go, and we rushed each other without hesitation.
It became instantly clear that my opponent was fast, strong, and flexible. Also she wasn't holding back in the slightest, and neither was I. Normally if you ask me 'hey, did you touch a boob in that situation?' I can tell you *exactly* how much I touched a boob. The fucking memory is seared into my brain. In this case I have no idea. We were wrestling for a little while so I probably touched lots of things, but I couldn't tell you what they were at all - my brain was entirely occupied with winning. That what we were doing might be sexy didn't exist; it was eclipsed by the struggle.
She was faster and more agile than me, but I had a large reach, mass, and strength advantage, and I ripped her sock off without allowing her to get to mine. She kipped up easily, demonstrating that agility, and I shook her hand and said "Good fight." Afterwards we talked about it, and she seemed really happy that she had a real challenge, as that was why she immediately volunteered to fight me. We were both pleased that it was tough and close - losing wouldn't have bothered me, but I wanted a challenge, and I wanted an opponent who was able to take my best efforts, and I got that.
*Then* I got horny, and unbridled desire set in. Other people wrestled, but only had limited attention to pay. Hot is great and all, but combine that with physical competence and a "I will fight you, no matter how big you are!" attitude? Ker Pow.
But there was more icebreaking to come.
Twister is a thing children do at parties. Also a really solid icebreaker for mostly naked adults. During round 1 I got bumped out fairly quickly, as you tend to when there are 10 people on a twister board. On the final round though I managed to hang in there until it was just me and the organizer left, and she made it her mission to get me out. You can do this in twister by just hanging out on your end of the board and trying to win via physical supremacy... or you can get in right on top of the other person and make it interesting. Also sexy.
I am not particularly good at twister. My flexibility is suspect, though my reach does help. But I am bloody determined, and I managed to stay in despite the fire in my muscles ramping higher and higher. My opponent decided to make things more difficult for me by distracting me, so she ground herself against my leg and rubbed her breasts on me.
I noted the grinding and touching, and thought that she was doing a good job, getting the crowd into it, and making sure the people were entertained. But it had no effect on me. I was going to WIN. I even thought "Well, I will remember this fondly later, once the match is over." My legs were twitching with strain and I could feel that I was not going to be able to continue - it was becoming too much.
Finally things came to an end. She was underneath me, both of us all tied up like pretzels, when she just lifted her body up, hoisting me off the ground a little, and my hands lost contact. Game over dude! Whether or not she was cheating by the official rules of Twister I don't know, but I was happy to accept the end of the game either way. I told her I was glad to lose because I was about to die and stumbled off. I spent the next hour struggling to walk because my leg muscles were too beat, so I am glad it didn't go longer.
Now in retrospect that was hot as fuck. But at the time? Ice cold. No reaction. I think for some people that would be expected but I am the horniest man alive - that old silly stereotype of men thinking about sex every 5 minutes makes me go "Hah, amateurs." But when competition is in the offing, that totally shuts down and the only thing I think about is striving for victory.
It isn't the winning that I aim for though. It is attempting to win. Pushing myself as hard as I can go. Running to the edge of my capabilities. Win or lose, the key is to play with all you have. That is where the greatest joy is found.
Winning is nice and all, don't get me wrong. It just isn't the key to capturing my brain like intense competition is.
I suspect most people are happy being partly in each world. Sexy games can be fun because you are both playing a game and flirting, doing each in part. But I don't do halfways like that. If I am competing, that is the only thing I am doing. If I am having sex, that is the only thing I am doing. Straddling the line between those worlds is not a thing I do.
This has a lot to do with my divided mind. Director can multitask to some extent - usually trying to accomplish something while worrying about other things. Passion though? He does only one thing. Nothing else even exists. While I was wrestling and twisting I was totally Passion. Doing exactly one thing with all my focus.
Maybe if I ever go back to work I will skip sales and go straight to organizing sexy events. Getting paid to play naked twister seems like a pretty sweet gig to me.
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