House Party: Introductions and Whores Part 1

This is an epic tale and will require several blogs. ~S

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There was some possibility that a house party with the Balance may be missed. As the Bard was touring the south there was no certainty that I would be able to get there on my own. Korea is fast approaching, though so I knew that I would move mountains to get to the obscure location of the party should it come to that. Fortunately for me the Bard returned roughly 24 hours before the party was slated to begin, and it was agreed that we would maintain tradition and arrive together.

The crowd in attendance tonight was a familiar site, minus the Cowboy, who was completing a musical theater engagement, and the Psychiatrist who has run off to join the military and is currently missed. Hopefully he is safe and sound and making a difference wherever he maybe. The usual set of Kitchen Irregulars were in attendance. Doomhammer let us in with a large smile and a warm hug, looking both ridiculously handsome and boyishly charming at the same time. Seated around the table were of course the Balance, sitting center and managing the mob. The Molester smiled and winked and leered cheerfully. The Jedi was warm smiles and long lashes.

The table was filled on all sides with others joining for a night of ribald and drinking. The new to me irregulars are all gamers, as the Balance manages, runs, recruits and slaves drives gamers through virtual obstacles and strange worlds. vVv gaming (http://www.vvv-gaming.com/)  is the circle from which the cheerful gamers at the table were plucked. To the left of the Balance is FoxyMoxy, a dark haired pixie-ish Betty Page with attitude. Across from her on the other side of the Balance sits Titan, a trumpet player turned Starcraft player with ambitions to conquer more distance planets before conquering sheet music. Next to Titan is….

Is…

Here is the thing, no matter how hard I try I have to admit that the person sitting next to Titan was so bland and so boring, that I kept, and continue to think of him, as Boring Brian. However neither his gaming name nor his real name is Brian. For some reason that was what stuck, for reasons which may become clear as we continue.

At first the conversation looked to continue, but then the Balance decreed that introductions needed to be made. We all knew him, but we did not know each other, or for some of us it was the first time meeting. The Balance turned to Miss Moxy, who with little adeu and no aplomb, said her name, her handle, and passed.

“That’s it?” asks the Balance.

“I’m sure the rest will come out eventually.”

The Balance allowed it and we moved on to the Molester, who did roughly the same thing.

“That’s it, I’ll do it. This is the Molester. I have known him since we were twelve when I baptized him in one fell swoop blackening his eye, annoying his family, and making a lifelong friend.”

“You did baptize me, didn’t you?” The Molester smiles and laughs, and shakes as the story is spilled out in more detail to be one of those quaint full of charm stories about how two young strangers can become friends of decades after a fitful start. This is how the Balance likes his introductions. Rather than name, rank, and occupation, it is stories that are demanded. The stories that bind you, that are a part of who you are, the stories that define you, that make you distinct and interesting and special.

The Balance tells a story about each one of us, some more personal than others. There are no details to sacred around the Balances dining room table. We all get in-ed or out-ed as the Balance sees fit. Thus it is revealed that Titan is trying to make the difficult decision of a scholarship for music or a lifelong desire to play games for a living. Miss Moxy is both a gamer, a mother, and a trouble maker. And Boring Brian is a twenty year old with the most basic of relationship conflicts. The Balance relates a brief of his story and says that he will ask Boring to provide further details at a later point.

The Balance describes his friendship with the Bard; and while their story does not include a baptism it most certainly contains the kind of bonding between two people that is more intimate than a marriage, closer than a friendship, and full love and mutual respect. Then the Balance turns his introduction lens on me.

“Ms. Devil. I keep saying she is an English teacher but that is no longer true.” He continues to introduce me.
“I also keep a blog. You’ll all be there in the morning.”

“Ah, yes, Ms. Devil’s blog. Yes, the stories, that is how I got the name the Balance, although I don’t know why.”

“Because you showed up at a thousand dollar dinner and declared ‘Tell me to wear a suit, I almost wore sweat pants.’ And it sort of Balanced the whole thing out.”

“Ah, yes, I remember that dinner.” And we go on to recount tales of tequila drinking, stripping, wild sexual excess from all parties before the Balance interjects with, “And most recently. You had a great story about your weekend with IML. You must, you must tell the story.”

And so I begin to recount my tales of hanging out at conventions of Leather Fetishists and aficionados with occasional interjections from the crowd. One notable commentator is FoxyMoxy, who embodies both easily enough a supreme love of naughtiness and a temperament for tawdry quips. Her play with the Balance, her ribald sense of humor, and her absolutely no holds barred interaction with the circle makes me like her instantly. As the crowd is amused by my tales of Leather Daddy Alpha, we briefly dip into a conversation about my own relationship and relationships. Ms. Moxy declares “I want to be you in six years.”

“Why wait?” I respond back.

As my story winds up with a description of the electric shocking that has occupied many of my weekends she asks “Can I have your number?”

“Honey, you can have my address.” At which point we both smile in the most devilish way at each other.

“I am so glad you two have finally met,” Says the Balance with a grin as laden with plot as Mephistopheles, “I think you should tryst.”

Smiles. It is quite clear that as the Balance would describe it, has described it, does describe it, we are both filthy, filthy whores. Both Moxy and I smile and wear the description proudly. And why not?