Well, I was on the Auction Block, and was a little nervous about it. I had slept fitfully the night before (although oddly for that uneasy sleep lasted for about 14 hours). I had had a very odd "stress-dream" about the whole thing. I'd describe it if I could. I had also not had a chance to eat much that day, so I was starved by the time we got to the auction. I grabbed a free bowl of chili and started taking on the Beer Bust. I figured I needed something to help the nerves. And it did. (if you havent figured it out yet, the lack of good sleep, the not eating and the quick drinking added up to some questionable decisions... questionable but fun...)
I made a concerted effort to introduce myself to the other cowpolk, as I was one of the only outsiders being auctioned off. Along the way I met a gentleman who was, well, quite taken with me. Well, I continued to make my rounds, and met some genuinely nice people. After about two hours of drinking, the auction was good to start. I was third up, and I watched as the first two candidates got only moderate attention standing on a low-stage tucked into the corner of the bar. Well, nobody puts Baby in the Corner. When my time came around, I jumped right up on the bar in the center of everything.
With the first two Auctionees, the Caller started with bids of about $25. Much to my surprise, as soon as I jumped up on the bar, she started at $200!!! Well, after a short bout of bidding, I was up to $350. Which turned out to be the second highest amount of the evening. (and I must say I was proud to hit that while maintaining my dignity... no nipple-clamps, ball-gag, kilt or stripping for me... I got that money through charm and style) (don't burst my bubble... let me think that for a while).
Well, the night was a blast, and I ended up a) accidentally winning another "Cowboy" for $125; b) getting into a fight with a guy who kept grabbing my ass, and then the guy who threatened to kick me out for standing up for myself (Hi. Drama. This is Christian. Why don't you two hang out for a while?); c) going to White Castle with my roommate, a drag queen, and a pig farmer; d) going home with said pig farmer; e) all of the above.
Lest anyone get the wrong impression, I had a really good time with the Pig Farmer. In fact it wasn't until the next morning when I awoke in a trailer park and he was pillow-talking about fertilizing sows that I realized just what a cultural juxtaposition I had drunkenly stumbled into. These guys (the drag queen, his partner, and the farmer) were such absolutely wonderful guys, but truly cut from a different cloth of life. It was quite fun hanging out with them and getting a little taste of a whole other culture.
So I count Saturday night as a success: I went home with one Cowboy, was "bought" for a date with another, and "bought" my own date for a third. Not bad. Not bad at all.
Musical Fodder for my Writing:"This River is Wild" The Killers,
Sam's Town
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