10 October 2004 - 9:07 am
Ren Faire. {shrug} Eh.
It was me, Greg, Kirsten and her friend Bill. I wasn't too impressed this year. There were a couple of highlights, tho.
Soon after we got there a couple of people came up to me. There was a guy in costume and there was a guy in a dress. It wasn't drag, tho, just a guy in a dress. With a goatee.
So Guy In Costume says to me, "Sir! Sir! You must ... you must date my sister!"
Guy In Dress says, falsetto, "Helloooooooooo. Heeheeheehee."
Me: (to GIC in a loud whisper) "Dude, your sister is kinda ugly."
GID: "I'm right here & I can hear youuuuuuuuuuuuuu! WAAAAAAAAAH!"
GIC walks away with GID: "Stop that! You know they don't like it when you cry!"
Me and Greg stopped at a Bubble Vendor while Kirsten was looking at massage supplies. It was mostly just fancy bottles filled with colored dish soap.
BV: "We have a few bottles made specifically for guys, so they can blow bubbles and not look so..."
Me: "Fruity?"
"Uh ... See? Bubbles?" And he blows one bubble. Then he dips his wand and blows another bubble. Then one more, single, lonely bubble. One bubble. One bubble. Misfire. One bubble.
"Does it blow more than one bubble?"
"Yes." One bubble. One bubble. One bubble. Misfire. One bubble. Misfire. One bubble. One bubble.
"Does it blow more than one bubble today?"
Turns out it doesn't.
The bestest time at the Faire was had at the Utilikilt tent. Me want. Me want lots. Unfortunately, me can't afford right now. But I did get sized so I can order one off their website. So the woman there has me try one on. First she finds my size by putting one on over my pants and asking, "Under the barrel or across?" I tell her "under" and she gets a kilt that fits me better. Then she orders me to face the rack o' kilts, holds the kilt up around my waist and says, "Drop your drawers." So I do, and she snaps it around my waist and throws a belt on me. I hop over to the mirror and check it out, and letmetellyou, I look goooooooooood in a kilt. So Sales Chick starts trying to sell me a kilt. "See? It hangs nicely. And when you've taken off the 'wear it's excellent. You swing your hips side to side like this (with her hands on my hips) and get the clock going. Or front to back, get the air conditioning going." Then she lifts up the back of my kilt a little, saying, "Sorry, I have to do this now. OK?" And she slides a couple fingers down the back of the kilt to check what kind of 'wear I wearing. I wish I had a camera to record the priceless look on her face. "YOU'RE NOT WEARING UNDERWEAR!"
"No, no I'm not."
"But I was reaching up under your kilt to pull your underwear off!"
"Well, then we both would have been surprised."
I didn't buy a kilt. But I am saving up for one.
Well that was it for the faire. Oh, except when Bill said that earlier in the day some Celts were talking about waging war with the Fairies. I pictured blonde, waif-like candy-ravers running around with sparkley wings and pointy ears screaming, "Hate crimes! Hate crimes!" HA!
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