I just returned from Gen Con in Indianapolis this weekend. We spent all Friday in the True Fantasy Tavern where we drank lots of beer and got challenged to bar brawls by large men dressed like orcs. I showed up dressed like an elf, and one of them gave me all the tokens he'd won in the dungeon.
When we went to leave the man stamping arms stamped me like four or five times, then said: "You don't really need a stamp. I just wanted to touch you."
At the White Wolf party Saturday I moved into a cage at an industrial club in downtown Indy and stayed there all night. I've heard dance cages decried for being misogynistic because they cater to the male fantasy of keeping women as pets. All I have to say is that those people have never been on a dance floor full of guys with ponytails and glow-in-the-dark contact lenses. The cage is my panic room.
An awesome friend of mine gave me a belly-dancing lesson in the big cage. There were four such cages and they were quite large. One contained a girl in duct tape gyrating upside-down with a glo-stick stuffed in ... no man's land. The other contained two very large women groping eachother and wetly tongue-kissing.
Is all this hip, or lame? I can't tell anymore.