THE ZBORNAK FILES

because sometimes dorothy was dead

Wednesday, November 10, 2004

Fisting The Night Away



This week the gay centre I'm working at is holding a seminar called "Kinky Sex & You". It's a sexual education thing, so along with the ruderies will be lots of important information on how to do kink safely. I'm all for it, as I think frank and open discussion about such things is important and creates a healthy society (although I still reserve the right to laugh like a schoolboy about anything I want to). What I'm not all for is having a relative stranger talking to me at a bus stop about fisting, which is the situation I found myself in the other day...

There I was, happily listening away to some Air America programmes I'd downloaded, waiting for my bus (which is how I spend - oooooh - 325% of my time) and trying to decide which of the other 5 people waiting with me that I'd have sex with if the world was about to end, when along comes "Steve". "Steve" is one of the clients that comes into the gay centre, he’s about 40, a bit pervy looking, is very enthusiastic about fisting (I found that out 2 weeks before, when he demonstrated it upon a latex bottom he happened to have on him) and lacks certain social skills that I think are kind of important. Anyway, he bowls up to me and we start chatting about this and that (not the tit and twat I'd been talking to an newly blonde lesbian about earlier in the day) when he mentions the seminar. One or two people looked at us a bit oddly, but with the current funky red Fuck You spike of hair I have at the moment I'm fairly used to that, so no problem. Then he starts going on about fisting and how some people think it's possible to put a fist through one end of your body so far up that it comes out the other. I kept a straight face, politely laughed and looked away to indicate that I'd had enough of the conversation, but that wasn't enough. He then proceeded to tell me all about the shape of the rectum and the intestines and how they go on for miles and how could anyone be so foolish as to think that the human body is wired like a hand puppet. Along with his description he actually showed me, by pointing to MY body, how it all worked!

Thankfully the bus pulled up at that point and thank Bob that "Steve" didn't get on with me. It was bad enough having the 5 other people from the bus stop look at me like I was a convicted rapist for the entire journey, let alone the rest of the passengers.

To be fair to "Steve" I did find the whole thing extremely amusing, but I have this whole "How English People Behave In Public" thing that made me embarrassed and worried about what the Bus People thought. Thing is, "Steve" must have that too (kind of) because the next day he was talking about the seminar opposite a gang of phone bankers, but kept saying "red" instead of fisting. I've since learnt that "red" is code for fisting, which is totally the best thing I've ever learnt if only for the pure joy I had when my step-sister showed me her new "red" dress.

So yeah, that's what will become the 'My Public Fisting' story at dinner parties and cannibal holocausts throughout the county.

2 Comments:

  • At 5:21 pm, Blogger Dr.Philomena said…

    Whatever keeps you smiling!

     
  • At 5:21 pm, Blogger Sydney AKA Candeee said…

    How funny and... funny! Though I cannot say that I personally am into fisting, it sounds like many a conversation I have had with friends on the subway.

    People still turn and look at you like you are a weirdo, even in NYC.

    Happy Weekend, Gareth!

     

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