Safe and Sane

Memorial Day weekend meant that most people had three days off and intended to spend it either in sloth or trying to cross off as many things as they could from their "to do" list. The club was prepared for both cases.

They'd cleaned and restocked all the rooms, put up some new decorations and made sure everything was bright and shiny.

They'd also stocked up on burgers, dogs, and other picnic essentials and put grills and tables in the back parking lot. There was a threat of rain but if that happened, everything could be hauled indoors to one of the fire-safe play rooms. (Of course, that hadn't stopped some wit from putting an "in case of fire" sign on the inflatable kiddie pool.)

The main lounge had tables stocked with drinks and finger foods for those who didn't do meat or simply weren't the picnic type. Friday afternoon rolled around and everything was set.

Josh was, for once, surprisingly relaxed. So much so that he'd actually fallen asleep on a couch, leaving his coffee cooling on the table. Still, he wasn't so relaxed that he didn't open his eyes as soon as he heard someone close by. It took him a moment to figure out where he was and start breathing again, but when he had he smiled warmly at the arrival. "Hey. Need me to move?"

There were pumpkins. Mulled cider. Pie. Sweet, scary treats. Long suffering cafe employees dressed in costumes.

Another stiflingly hot day, with the promise of thunder later in the evening. Every door and window in the cafe was firmly closed in the hope that the air conditioning would actually keep the place cool, and large parasols shaded outside tables for people determined to bake themselves.

Indoors, all was cool, with the usual selection of coffee and cakes, along with an experimental selection of home-made lemonade and elderflower presses.

Outside, slightly pinkened employees took turns to staff an old-fashioned stall selling ice creams and sorbets. Bets were being taken on how many people could actually manage to eat them before they melted.

No bets were being taken on the expectation of suggestive licking.

Josh walked into the club, a place he could feel somewhat safe from the demands and expectations of the outside world, and quite literally just flopped down onto a couch. Eyes closed, he was quite comfortably sprawled and he had no clue at first when someone else came into the room. Gradually awareness seeped through and he opened one eye. "Hi?"

No one should ever have let David have a sense of humor. Ever, really. He was shameless. He also had a huge box of real, flowered leis from somewhere and had them near the door of the cafe with a huge sign that said "Get leid today!"

The staff was being good humored about it, playing Caribbean music and most of them wearing their own leis.

Sunday Night.

Pride had been going strong all weekend, but Sunday night things were just starting to ramp down in the city, and up in the club. The doors were propped open, the lights were blazing inside and outside there were strings of decorative rainbow lights wrapped around the security lamp posts.

The main lounge had elements of the club's parade float scattered about - leather bondage and roses, barbed wire twisted into pretty shapes and hung out of reach, the odd balloon (or inflated, colorful condoms) floating about the floor and furniture. The music wasn't loud, but for once it wasn't nearly inaudible.

The bar was open, and there was an actual bartender behind it. There were snacks (healthy and not), drinks (alcoholic and not), and the rooms to the scening rooms were all standing open along the halls. The single tail demo room had been cleared out and turned into a dance floor, that was plenty big enough for whoever wanted to be there -- and dimmer lights, and music that was easy to dance to.

There were condoms and lube in cut crystal candy bowls sitting about, reminders about safety and not driving - or playing- drunk. It was bright, festive, celebratory, and very much 'devil may care, as long as you're being safe', people around to make sure things stayed safe, and members who knew how to handle themselves safely or they wouldn't have been members to begin with.

The party, just this once, was a party.