September 28th, 2009

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Folsom Street Fair

Supplemental:
Folsom Street Fair, a "sexy S&M street-bacchanal"
A map of the fair's stomping grounds.
PDF layout of the streets and booths.


I had thought that I would show up to the fair early, so as to arrive before the bulk of the crowds and to be sure of showing up at the designated meeting spot on time. Oh, ha ha.

I was still feeling shaky and unwell by my projected departure time, and dithered about making it at all. However, that was the departure time for early. I continued preparing and was almost ready to go by departure time for on time, and sailed out the door a little late, optimistically wearing sweatpants (instead of the usual shorts) under my skirt because of the cold Pacifica morning, without sunblock, but with plenty of water, my camera, and my phone (but without my prepaid BART ticket). I had managed to find my imp of Whip, though. :D Mmmleatherandroses. I'd also pulled my star, which often enough rides on its cord low enough to catch in my cleavage, up short to choker-length, symbolic to me if no-one else.

My usual park-at-Daly-City-BART-and-ride-in plan went smoothly; I departed at Civic Center, a bit unnerved by the daytime weekend smash of riders, but happily diverted by the lovely young woman in short-shorts (vinyl) and corset (black lace overlaid on a black background fabric) who was standing right at eye-level. I did not have to waste brainpower guessing where she was headed.

Once in the general area, I called JD to alert him to my progress. He mentioned that no-one else had appeared yet, and they were still at the planned meetup point of Folsom and 9th. There I headed. The foot traffic grew more and more fantastic the closer I got, including at least one person in a bathrobe. Interesting.

I arrived at the gates. A sign sternly warned me that the fair operated on a three-strikes rule regarding "lewd actions" in the fair itself, and three offenses would see me booted and in the loving hands of SFPD. (Offenses from upper stories of buildings would be turned directly over to SFPD.) The collection at the gates of the fair proved to me that I was very conservatively dressed indeed, given that the skin I was showing was neck, face, and hands. As I wandered down mostly-empty 8th Street toward the fair proper, I noticed that clothing seemed to be more and more ... optional. Lewd actions indeed; seemed that the street had become a nude beach for the duration. I was conscious of the hot hot sweatpants, and began to regret them.

Smoke from the many things being barbecued, grilled, fried, and otherwise tastily cooked stung my eyes as I walked towards JD and Ryan's marked place in the crowd. The indicated intersection was huge on foot, with booths and other items blocking clear view, not to mention the hundreds of people. I stood still and looked around, and eventually JD located me.

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I got few to no pictures, as I was too busy having fun.

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