The digital sands are running and this piece has got to get a move on. So basically I’ve set the timer and I’d feel strange if this entry finished without any content. I’m not gonna attempt relevant content, because I so rarely ever do. Writing in an impaired (read: intoxicated) state is hardly conducive to contemplative thought, so stream of consciousness is more likely gonna be the order of the night. Today was an eclectic assortment of happenstance, which, while unexpected was not unpleasant. I tried starting off with a jog in my new running shoes, only to find my flat-footed nature grossly rejecting the shape of this flashy footwear. I was set for my 10km loop, but after about 20 minutes I was wracked with unimaginable pain in my footsies (seemed like the cutest possible name for them) and felt my entire posture slipping. I walked home before limping became my only viable option.
I ventured back out to look for remaining bits to complement my CrushTO costume. I guess a little backstory is in order. CrushTO is one of the tiers within a specific group/community here in Toronto. It’s totally open to all sexual persuasions and gender identifications. The key words are acceptance and consent. The first tier (ranked on material of a sexual nature, rather than any kind of status thing. The groups are all non-judgemental) is Puppy Love. I’ve talked about Puppy Love before, it’s like the fever dream of an early 90s 12 year old: Arts and Crafts, dating games, Truth or Dare, Spin the Bottle and dancing to non-clubby hits. It’s an awesome mixer that encourages people of all sexual persuasions to get out and meet people. Many random hook-ups thrown in. At the last one we filmed a truthful take on the “20 random strangers kiss for the first time” (rather than 20 models advertising for clothes) and had a bunch of Truth or Dare sloppy makeouts. Quite co-incidentally everyone I’ve talked to post-event has come down with some form of flu that was obviously passed through lip on lip action. It was a fun night that paid dividends in terms of meeting new people, which meant that my diminished health was an acceptable loss.
CrushTO is the next level up. I’ve also talked about CrushTO events before (filtered through my love of dancing with lesbeans), but I’d do them a disservice if I didn’t cover them again. So CrushTO events are all themed. They’re far more clubby than the Puppy Love events. They involve some kind of onstage performance and a culture more predicated on meeting people and pairing off. Private rooms are provided in case people want to get hot and heavy, which means that anything truly tactless gets moved away from the dance floor and into a safe space. I felt pretty intimidated by the idea initially, but my fervour for libatious lesbean liasons of a precocious prancing persuasion (holy shit, those two sets of alliteration kind of rhyme) led me to have an outstanding night. The theme for tomorrow is “Foxy Fiction” and I figure my costume will earn me at least a modicum of nerd cred, which is all I’ve ever asked for in life, apart from a Mercedes Benz. It should be a stupendous night on the town and one that’ll nicely cap off my last evening of drinking for at least a month.
The last tier is that of the SPIT Play party. This is a barrier I haven’t crossed yet, but I’m considering heading along to see just where my boundaries lie. The SPIT Play parties involve a live porn shoot occurring on the premises. Volunteers can opt in to participate (I might leave this one to others) in advance, or just come along for a night of consensual touching and sharing. As with each of the above tiers, participants of all sexual persuasions and gender identifications are welcomed and encouraged. The idea is to leave your sexual hang-ups at the door with your coat and just enjoy your body and those of the people around you. Once again, consent is that magical word that makes the world go around. As I said, this might be beyond me at this stage, but perhaps I’ll head along at some point.
I feel like whatever this was meant to be, it’s become an unflinching advertisement for the group I’d Tap That. Fair enough, they’ve offered me a bunch of great nights and introduced me to a number of outstanding people. Only fair that I pay it forward, right? So if you’re in Toronto, consider coming out (no pun intended) to one of the parties. You’d be welcome with arms wide open, but not in the Creed sense. Because friends don’t let friends like Scott Stapp.