|Abandoned at the sex show
||[Nov. 26th, 2011|01:20 am]
So, I've done two nights of the Taboo show. It has been fun.|
There are three contestant's for Ms. Taboo. There are only two for Mr. Taboo. There aren't higher standards for the male version; only two people actually tried out for it. The three woman actually had to compete. The men fell into it. But it is an opportunity to hang out with pretty women for a weekend and be the centre of attention.
Interestingly, the organizer admitted that there probably isn't much interest in the Mr. Taboo contest. Nominally it is there because they want to attract more women to the show. But the big benefit is that when the Ms. Taboo contestants are wandering around the show, there are men there with them. Less chance of the them getting harassed by drunk men. Apparently there are a lot of drunk people in Edmonton too, compared to Calgary. So, I'm to provide security, which is laughable.
Each night follows a pattern. Arrive. Change into clothes for the evening. Wander around and schmooze; let people know about the clothes and where to get them; remind them of the contest. Break. At eight o'clock, perform in a fashion show. Go to the photo area and try and convince people to pay to be in pictures with you. Break. More schmoozing. Eleven o'clock, you are done.
The first night, Thursday, they dressed me up in leather. I had to change what I was wearing because when they were sizing me, they never checked my thigh size. Running has ruined that for me. It was pretty dead that night, so it wasn't too much fun.
Tonight was much better. They had us wearing latex clothing, which moved a lot better than the heavy leather. Easier to get about. There were more people, and they were drunker, so we were actually getting people to be in pictures. Which is surprising because there were actual models and porn stars there. Apparently we are doing better than Calgary.
The latex was a bit awkward when a large man accused me of being gay. I denied it, so he then claimed I was bisexual. Nope. He still looked suspicious, so I explained it was for the fashion show. I think he wanted to go gay bashing.
Tomorrow is the big event. I'll be bodypainted. Then, after the fashion show, the audience will vote for the winner. But really, we are all winners. Ha ha, no. The winner gets more money, and a real photo shoot. I don't care about the money, but I would like the photo shoot. I'd like to have a picture of me that I'm not embarrassed about.
My competition will, of course, slaughter me. He's a former male model. He's gregarious. He has his own welding business, so he gets good upper body strength. He has a punk mohawk, which makes him more distinctive. I'm a skinny computer programmer with dolphin arms.
He is from out of town, so my best strategy is to stock the audience with as many supporters as possible. He only has his wife. They have given me $300 worth of tickets to give away for just that purpose, but apparently I hang out with a very conservative crowd. (And I thought they were more to the Left.) Nobody wants to go out to see beautiful people. Nope. They are more likely to go out to work at a charity. I still have lots of tickets, but no takers.
The bodypainters were supportive and I'm going to try and go with as much confidence as possible.