Back in the saddle and going like mad

Thanks for all the well wishes, Tambo sends her thanks out to everyone. It is back to the shop for me, lots and LOTS to get done this week. So while I attend to this pile of rope that needs whipping, here are some fun shots from Folosm.

The charming Ms Nefarious at socialkink.com asked if I would not mind tossing some rope her way. Hmm, tie up a pretty girl? Gee I dunno, well since you asked so nice I guess so.


The rest of the shots can be seen here (registration with socalkink.com required).


As soon as I get my ass out of this production backlog I'm in I'll be doing an interview and other stuff for these guys. So far the site seems pretty cool and Ms. Nikki... well with a smile like that, how can you not like her?
ok, I best get my ass back on the shop floor.

Cocktease

Saturday afternoon, Starbucks just off Castro Street, or as the locals call this coffee house in the heart of this epicenter of the SF gay scene, “Starbears”. Folsom weekend is in full swing and the place is packed as Alex and I weave our way through the throngs of men sipping their coffee. As we wait for our fix to be delivered by our green aproned caffeine pusher I cant help but feel the like I’m being watched. Sure the place is packed and we exchange smiles and nods with the other patrons, no this is different. The eyes of an unseen watcher bore into my back, making the little hairs on the back of my neck stand. Casually as possible I make a visual sweep of the place trying to spot the source. Shifting through the crowd I spot him, a young lad just off to my left. Bespeckled eyes stare at me from above a laptop where he was probably working on some college related thing. He has that look, young and earnest. The wire rim glasses and beard make me think post grad student probably? Something involving literature written by dead Russians or an esoteric element of language.

Getting ogled by men no longer fazes me; I mentally shrug my shoulders in a “just another day in the life…” sorta way and make for the door, watched ever intently. Just outside Alex announces that he needs to use the facilities. As he plunges back into the crowed shop I find an open chair on the sidewalk and enjoy the fleeting remains of the gloriously sunny afternoon. No sooner am I seated than the watcher makes his move. Approaching with caution he closes in to make his pitch, “Um, hi. I see you are with your boy and all, but I saw that you were flagging green* and just had to tell you that I think you are really hot.”

No matter what your orientation, it is always flattering and sweet when someone says they find you attractive. While I’m not about to take this kid up in his offer, I do my best to graciously thank him while offering him a minimum of openings for further advances. Alex returns just as he nervously nods his goodbyes and parts with, “maybe I’ll see you at the fair tomorrow?”

Alex greets me with a raised eyebrow and a look of, “I can’t leave you alone for 5 minutes in this town”

Fast forward to Sunday, Folsom Street. Tens of thousands of leather men, perverts and gawkers descend upon 6 blocks of downtown SF. In this shoulder to shoulder throng of bodies who should make a beeline to us? Yep you guessed it. (How he found us amongst the masses is beyond me, Alex argues that boys hunt by smell. I kept looking to see if he somehow placed a homing beacon on me when I was not looking) There standing before Alex and I was my star struck admirer, dressed in a hot pink camisole and boots no less. If I swung this particular direction this display of interest would endearing and sweet, however Monk’s “good idea meter” (that would be my cock, for those of you playing along at home) just does not respond to this particular form of attention. Alas, no dice young fan, still I’m not about to be an ass to this man’s misdirected affection. Nah, he has not crossed any boundaries and been very respectful, so I see no harm in stopping to chat and exchange pleasantries. We chat for a few and then with a pat on his curly head I send him on his way, pink camisole soon engulfed in the sea of leather and flesh.

Chuckling, I pull a cigar from my vest pocket and give it a light.
Again, Alex gives me that raised brow look and says, “Daddy, you are SUCH a cocktease”

* Alex and I have patterned our relationship after Daddy/boy dynamic. When in public together we often flag hunter green hankies to denote this.

Folsom St. isn’t that big after all.

Arrive early enough and you can walk the fair in comfort. Easily perusing the wares with out the constant press and jostle of the larger (and substantially drunker) crowds that seem to plague the event near it’s final hours. Seemed like we could not go about half a block with out someone calling out “Hey Monk!” and catching our attention. Many hugs and hellos were to be had with folks I have not seen in years, as well as a ton of folks from home. This year everyone from Seattle seemed to make the trek down to the event.

Near the end of the day, just after I had finished doing a bit of street bondage on a charismatic little cutie, a voice from the past called out my name. Now I must confess that I suck at recalling names. The voice was attached to a face that the last time I saw, she was half naked tied to a pole watching Matisse and I torment her teddy bear.

Who remembers “The Weakest Kink”?, a gag MM and I did like… 3 maybe 4 years ago? We were both going to a leather event and made up a contest to find someone to bottom to us. We had 4 willing contestants and every week we would issue challenges and vote one out of the dungeon. Really fun stuff, well at least for us. Anyway, the winner was a total sweetheart of a girl named Krystal. She jumped through every wacky, kinky hoop our deviant brains could devise and came out on top. While at the event, she decided to dress the “little schoolgirl” fetish, you know plaid skirts and pig tails, and sport a teddy bear. For whatever reason, we pounced on said bear and did all manner of terrible things to it while this poor girl was tied up and bottoming to us.

Fast forward 4 year. Here she is, just as pretty (if not more actually) and smiling that same smile that made us just want to rip into her sweet flesh like a couple of jackals. In her hands, yep the teddy bear. Did I mention that the bear was still tied up in the same rope? Seems the bear came all the way to Folsom in hopes of seeing us and wanted to kiss my new boots.


I was happy to oblige what had to be the most hard core bondage bear ever. 4 years in the same hogtie and no complaints? Wow, that is one serious rope slut.

In all seriousness, it is pretty fucking amazing and humbling to me that someone would hang onto a souvenir like this. That bottoming to us was such a memorable experience that they would seek us out 4 years later to not only say thank you but also show off said souvenir. I suppose I could should be jaded and cynical by now, after all the stuff that has transpired in the years since I started this whole rope adventure, but when presented with stuff like this, all I seem to be able to do is sorta blush and keep saying, “damn, that is so cool! Thank you!”

That guy in the booth

Go to most events, kink or otherwise and you see him, tucked away in the vendor area, hiding behind their folding table like a morose troll under a bridge. Sitting there looking bored and more than just a wee bit desperate. As you walk past you stray away from his gaze and give only a cursory glace at the wares, save he take your feigned interest as an opening to latch onto you in a pathetic attempt to sell you something.

When I first started selling rope at public events I made a promise to myself, the day I became such a person was the day I quit.

I never wanted to resent having to come to an event. Little resentments build into a larger cancer that sucks the joy out of what you do. Customers can sense that and they will stay away from you in droves. I genuinely love my customers and am delighted when I get the chance to interact with them at events. Their love of the rope fuels my drive to work harder. Getting to hear their stories and share with them my latest color or rope find is the best pay check in the world. I never want to be that guy with his stock, piled forlornly on a table, just counting the hours till this event is over and he can go home.

No, I want my customers to know that when they come to see me it is an event, it is something to look forward to.

sure it does not always work out that way. Shows are exhausting, stressful events and I have been known to be a pretty grumpy Monk by the end. However these are all temporary things.

My greatest enemy, the thing that will eventually cripple and destroy all I have built is long term burn-out. The size and prosperity of my company is only limited by the amount of hours I choose to put in and how long I can stay in the game before my body wears out and my joy bleeds away into resentment. Thing is, It is not just my burn out that I must factor in these days either, the constant grind of the deathmarch also takes its toll on my crew and partners as well. If I intend to continue to do this for a long, long time (and I do) I need to be mindful of their burn rate as well.

Thankfully, after years of hard work, our customer base is astounding. We are finally at a point where we don’t have to attend every sales event just to make the rent. Rather we can pick and choose our events and make those appearances really count. We are talking big, memorable events where folks will remember the show.

So this year, when the call for vendors at the Folsom Street Fair was announced I had to really ponder my choice. I love the event, love the show but with a show in Boston the month before and a Christmas season that even in its earliest stages is already showing signs of being insanely busy I had to make the tough choice.

This year the TwistedMonk.Com show will not be coming to Folsom.

We all needed a break and frankly we have too much work here at the Abbey right now to even begin contemplating mounting a show worthy of our customers. Nope, this year we are going to sit this one out.

That is to say the company proper is sitting this one out. Me? I’m still coming down for the party. See, in the past 3 years of selling at the event, I have NEVER ventured any farther than the nearest porta-pottys. All the sights to be seen and I’ve not seen anything save what passed in front of my stage.

So this year, Monk will be a tourist at Folsom--Ready to take in the sights, explore the possibilities and not have to pick his profession over his passions. Who wants to get into some trouble?

Fear not, gentle reader, this does not mean that we will never be returning to the streets of SF in the future. In fact we are currently in negotiations for next year’s event.

This just in from my video guru, the Folsom 2006 highlights video.


As with the rest of our videos, this too has been posted to the youtube channel. I have a few more up my sleeve that I'll be posting later. The response has been nothing short of astounding, I think I will be packing my miniDV cam around a lot this summer.

Yes, this is amazing, but watching it kinda freaked me out. See, it hit me this morning. We leave for Shibaricon in just over 3 weeks and there is still so much left to be done. Vendors who are late, colors not yet right, booths to design, what am I going to wear? ack the list goes on and on! I'm not going to panic, yet. However if I seem a bit edgy next time you see me, this would be the case. I know, in my more lucid moments, that we will be ok there will be enough stock and that we will sell all we bring. I just never want to do these things half way, come up short and not deliver a kick ass show.