For those of you who don't know, Provincetown is a gorgeous little town on the tip of Cape Cod. Cute, scenic, surrounded by beaches and bars and restaurants.
Oh, yeah... it's also the gayest town in America. I mean... seriously gay. That's part of it's charm, of course. But man... whoo! Real gay.
We (Mrs. TK and I) went down there with about 8-10 friends, and had a fucking ball. We sat in the sun, we swam, we barbecued, we ate at a couple of great restaurants (including the only South African restaurant I've ever seen), we went on walks, we rode our bikes, we drank (heavily), we smoked a pile of... um...
Anyway. My cell phone battery died on the first day. There's something very liberating about three days with no cell phone and no computer. Yes, it means I neglect you
Mrs. TK and I going on a bike ride and being happy to discover we're not nearly as out of shape as we thought we were.
My friend and I heading into P-Town on Sunday night to buy more beers and (at least we're pretty sure) being mistaken for a very busted-looking gay couple, which led to some absolutely hilarious exchanges. My favorite was this:
We walk into a liquor store. It's got a million different kind of fancy beers, and at the bottom of the case, two 18-packs of Bud. Of course, since we were drinking for volume, we buy the two 18-packs. We get up to the register. The guy rings us up, I glance at Tim, he glances at me, shrugs and says "I got no money."
Me: Of course you don't.
Store Owner: Isn't that always the way?
Tim: Whatever.
Me: I guess it's on me.
SO (to Tim): Do you make him carry them too?
Me: Very funny.
Tim: Come on, mule. Bring the booze.
We get out of the store, I look at Tim and say:
You know he thinks I'm the daddy, right?
Ah, maybe you had to be there. But we ended up having one of those moments... you ever have one of those moments when you just. can't. stop. laughing? Like, tears-pouring-down-your-face laughter? Well, this was one of those. Except it went on for about 2 hours. To the point where I think we started annoying our friends. Every time we looked at each other, it resulted in gut-busting laughter.
We also learned that... well... there are a lot (a LOT) of unusual fetishes out there. We found a card in the house we stayed in that was for um... well, I guess color codes for fetishes, so that people would know what you were into. It basically looked like this on the back, with a picture of a large man in chaps on the front. See, this is the kind of service my blog provides. Come for the reading, stay for the fetish education. Thank me later.
Anyway. I'm back, with a bitchin' tan, and miserable about being back at work. That's all I got for now. Hope you all had lovely weekends.
22 comments:
You've never heard of hanky codes? TK, I'm ashamed of you. Oh wait. You're hetero. Neeeeeeeeeever minnnnnnnnnnd.
Love the liquor store exchange, daddy. ;)
I sincerely doubt the guy thought you were the daddy. Maybe he thought you were the hanky-always-on-the-right kind of guy.
I'd like to know what you had to google to find that card. You're probably the one who comes to my blog via "I want to fuck an Arby's Beef n' Cheddar." Right?
Max - Gosh, who knew I was so sheltered.
Vermillion - No way. I'm totally an on-the-left type. I think. Wait... which is which again?
dmbmeg - if you must know, I googled "gay hanky color codes". But thanks for getting the freaks that come to you, to come to me. This is like when you typed "sweet Caroline fucking slut" into my comments, and then I started drawing that search. Sweet.
my friend and I had an exchange like that with the guy at a paint counter one time when I was trying to paint my bathroom some godawful color that my-then-mrs. picked out. It never stopped being funny.
and after looking at how many codes there were, I've decided that I could never be gay. I'm not smart enough.
Daddy.
That's hot.
I clicked on your color code of debauchery and learned a few things, but the most important one: Don't just pick your favorite color and look at under the assumption that you'll like whatever it stands for. Because it's not true...it's not.
Sheltered?!? Pish. Not my TK. :) Truth be told, I didn't know some of that stuff could be considered fetishistic. I thought cops and robbers was, at best, role playing. :) Cops and whatever it is. Insubordinate detainee. Whatev. ;)
Ent ay eet the paent cheeps for mai deenair. Yu du not laik Francois zee 'Omicidal Snel?? ;)
When moving out of my last apartment and into my current one, my roommate hired the cheapest moving crew he could find. They ended up all being gay. The crew leader was asking my roommat what he does and I thought he was talking to me so I started to answer when he loudly cut me off and exclaimed, "I know what YOU do, I was askin' him." He then asked my roommate if I was "his boy." *shudder*
This is why I have this label on my blog.
Country Roads - I know! Who knew it was so complicated.
Boo - you bet your ass it is.
Red - Orange is your favorite color, huh?
Max - Isn't role playing in and of itself, a fetish?
Mortarbored - Easy, tiger. Don't get all defensive. It's totally cool that you hired The Village People to help you move.
Hrm. I guess so. *scratching head* I guess I never put a whole lot of taboo, if you will, into pretending to be someone else for the sake of sex. Then again, I've never donned a toga in real life and demand the serving wenches rip it from my heaving bosom and have their way with me.
But now I will. ;)
I went to a lesbian BBQ in East Falls last summer and they handed out hankies with those cards. I believe mine had something to do with, ahem, urination.
This Sunday I went to the Phils game and saw them humiliate the Padres to the level of something you'd find on the fetish card. But don't be jealous, cause unfortunately we were being held captive by my parents for the day -- so the victory was bittersweet.
dude...how were the men's rooms?
Okay, the card? Seriously, I think it would be easier to memorize the periodic table of the elements. I had no idea it was so difficult to be a gay man. Why couldn't they combine something that you have to memorize anyway and combine it with their codes. That way you would be killing two birds with one stone.
Well, I guess every day you learn something new. Just never figured that I would learn something like this. I thought that the only think that you needed to know was the top\bottom thing again.
The traffic on your site is only going to get weirder now.
Damned old internets!!
Aaaah... color coded hanky.
Maybe that's what that sociable senator from idaho was looking for when he stuck his hand under the airport bathroom stall.
It's been ages since I was in PTown. Went with a big running group and stayed at a b&b, lamplighter if I recall. When we went out to eat and get entertained, I loaned my bright red jacket to another of the guys in the group. He got all of the attention. Best decision I ever made.
meow.
this has nothing to do with your post...
i hate jd f drew. HATE him.
Max - attagirl.
Salty - I hereby dub you "Peegirl". Ta da!
Rott - Those I managed to avoid. But P-Town is so open, the men's rooms are probably fine - nothing to be hidden out there.
F.O.L. - you're over-thinking it, I suspect.
Melody - the traffic here is already pretty weird. I think I like it that way.
Anon - See, we should get the senators to wear hankies.
Tex - NOT TALKING ABOUT IT. MAKES ME TOO ANGRY.
Not overthinking TK, just generally nosy. See, it wouldn't be enough for me to spot someone with a complementary preference. I would want to know what all of them meant. So that way I could whisper and giggle at other people's choices.
OK, I can dig that. I'm all for laughing at other peoples choices.
I'd heard about said hanky code before but I didn't realize it was so complex. Being a gay man is hard work. Daggone.
My family stopped in P-town on the way to Maine the summer I was fourteen. Good to know it has retained its fabulousness in the *ahem* twenty years past.
I think there should be a hanky for general stuff too, like "I like angel hair pasta" or "Julia Roberts' movies are the bomb!" Okay, maybe not.
Post a Comment