Black Friday

Rather than go shopping on Friday, I chose to drive to San Luis Obispo, change into some lingerie, and run around town with about 250 other scantily clad drunks at the 2005 North/South Intercourse.

Although I danced with many a satin-skinned lad that night, this guy was my favorite, because if you're going to do something, you should do it right:I love a man who can coordinate his pinks and still look like the outfit was no effort.

The pack of us were chasing the guy on the right in this photo. It's amazing that no one caught him in those shoes. Then again, maybe no one wanted to...

Some folks took the run more seriously, donning headlamps and proper running gear:You've got to respect a man who can seriously run in that outfit.

The run ended at a venue with beer, food and a DJ that inspired these two fellows to get down. Notice the garter belt on the guy on the right.

That was Friday night. Yes, I was in lingerie: black bustier top with red satin trim and black panties for all those interested. I left my red feather boa in the hotel because it was drizzling outside and I didn't want to be running around in wet feathers all night. Only one person noticed it was the same ensemble I had worn to another lingerie run seven months prior. Either I had left an impression on him or he hadn't had enough beer.

I think it was on Friday night that I was asked by MM to provide a cock block for him. He was pursuing a lovely lady and making some progress when another man moved in on his prey. MM asked me to come in and divert the other man so I used my feminine wiles to have him escort me to the beer truck while MM fled with the girl. No sooner had I successfully blocked the other man's chances than I turned to see the same girl's fiance! Incredibly enough, MM did get some sort of play from her behind the dance hall - and the same girl offered oral services to MB the very next evening. Ain't love grand?

Incredibly enough, that same evening my belief that chivalry is not dead was restored when I found a man with pigtails and lingerie lecturing JP on what a great girl I am and how he had better marry me or the pigtailed man would kill him. I later recall seeing the same chivalrous man sitting on a bench, legs wide open, his little sausage and franks hanging from his lingerie. According to news sources, I walked up to him and stuffed his package back into the lace panties then casually walked away. Damned ouzo.

At some point I recall stumbling back to my hotel room, alone, in lingerie and a sweatshirt. It was about four blocks away from the party but I still managed to get lost. Damned ouzo.

Saturday morning I slept in and then decided, rather ambitiously, to do the "Ball Buster" run. It was supposed to be somewhere between 8-12 miles long. Thankfully, the hares (guys we were chasing) messed up the trail thereby providing a shortcut. Of course, the shortcut led us through the wastewater canals of downtown San Luis Obispo, including a very dark and treacherous tunnel with no flashlights and lots of stagnant and smelly pools of water. That was fun until we came out of the tunnel to face arctic wind blasts for the last mile back to the hotel.

Saturday night was a blur of barley wine and dancing. I do recall holding the shirt of a man so he could butt chug off his girlfriend. For those who have never butt chugged, it's where one person drops trow and squats over the face of the other. A third person then pours beer down the butt crack of the squatter so it runs into the mouth of the squattee. I have never participated as I prefer mine from a mug. Still, it was fascinating to watch two late 30-somethings conduct themselves in such a manner. Note to boys: the best view is from the rear - unless the squatter is a man.

Sunday was bisquits and gravy at Bon Temps Creole Cafe (go there if you're ever in SLO) and then Sunday holiday weekend traffic home.

Damned ouzo.