How often does one get to say nonchalantly, "Meet me across from the naked twister stage."?
For the past several years, the Gay Rodeo has consistently been the top seller of beer at the fair. We show up, we work hard, and we get it done. We're adamant about checking IDs, every one, every time—and frankly I love using the phrase "You have to take it out and I have to touch it." as often as I can at Folsom—but we are six to 8 across and have a team pouring behind us. And at a fetish street fair, everybody loves a cowboy. We flirt for work and work for tips.
Hard work is rarely this much fun.
As the consistent top sellers (every year we run out of beer and they bring more kegs over from other booths), they put us smack-dab in the middle this year in the intersection of 10th and Folsom, and we were consistently slammed all day. Which is also great because that way the fair came to us. Lots of hotness too. And the new service perk: "Tipping comes with touching." Working the Rodeo booth is always such a nice way to spend the day at the fair with good friends and (mostly) in the shade. Lord that sun got brutal when it passed into the western sky.
I don't take many pics at Folsom anymore unless I am capturing friends or a particular frame catches my eye. Like this one. These people and their friends could not have been a sweeter bunch to talk to. And I thought this sight really just sums up everything about the Folsom Street Fair.
And maybe this one. Mostly because it somehow has the air of everyday about it.
Please note the happy preppy girl smiling in her hounds-tooth skirt and dress shirt.
Whenever people get all skittish and judgmental about San Francisco "freak" events like Folsom Street Fair, I enjoy pointing out that Folsom is the largest one-day outdoor public fair in the world. If it's not your thing, we can celebrate that too. If you are looking down your nose at this, get over it. When it comes to kink and a thoughtful, open attitude towards sex, anything consensual is good-to-go play for grown-ups. If it makes you uncomfortable, that's artificial conditioning.
When Curtis did arrive we were able to do a lap and run into fun friends. So much friendly frisky fun people.
And of course my favorite cowboys and cowgirls.
It did get searing hot later in the day, especially facing the direct sunlight in a black hat and black shirt serving beer. The hat kept the sun off most of my face and out of my eyes, and Popper dutifully reminded us to reapply sunscreen as we could tell out forearms were burning. At some point I noticed my cheeks and lips were burning. The hat gave me some shade, but just to the ridge of my nose. I stepped back to put on some lip balm from my pocket, not thinking that of course it would by then be completely melted, and it smeared and spurted as I attempted to apply. I wiped my lips with a towel and went back to power serving. I stepped back to refresh myself and Rosemary and her boyfriend Chad thought it was funny and were impressed that i was so brazen and balls-out (as it were) for Folsom. I didn't know what they were talking about.
Chad was taking photos with his phone and showed me one. I doubled-over laughing. And later I thought how happy I am to be the kind of person who when shown how embarrassing they might look, has am immediate laughter response rather than shame or anger. Thanks to the awesome parents who taught me to be able to laugh at myself.
And c'mon, this was pretty hilarious. Folsom can be really... well... "slutty" sounds pejorative and this day is shame-free. But if the rag fits...
Pretty Folsom-appropriate I'd say for someone who doesn't own any fetish gear.
Later that night, someone was heard to ask me, "Your beard is so soft, what do you use on it? And why does it smell like coconut?"
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