From: thaaang@cwis.unomaha.edu (John Dorrance)
Newsgroups: soc.motss
Subject: The CON: 'Tango', Trees, and Tubs
Date: 3 Aug 92 18:42:22 GMT
Organization: University of Nebraska at Omaha

[The second in a series. Hopefully I'll keep these installments coming.]

The drive to Bagby. I rode with Alan, a quiet guy, but really nice.
We listened to Romanavsky (or something like that) and Phillip's 'Be
Political, not Polite'. Really quality stuff; my favorite song would
have to be 'Tango Indigesto'. So wonderfully written.

We were in a *BIG* *WHITE* *CARAVAN* Alan's white Toyota, Tom's white
rental van (which he got for sub-compact price. Smart lad!), and
Chris' white rental something-white-trash-sporty;-a-Camaro,-maybe?
(which had the cutest windshield wipers: they kept the bottom inch or
two of the windows CAMN CLEAN, but didn't do squat for the rest. I
was enchanted, but I'd assume it made driving a pain.) We stopped so
Chris could cast about for an engineer or two who could expand his
wipers' area of effect (noone could; I would have volunteered to sit
on the roof for the rest of the drive, but then Alan woulda had to
turn the music up REAL LOUD so I could hear it, and I didn't want to
get wet anyway) and for food (we hit this big ol' grocery store. I
bought a couple poor boys to eat, and Joel bought a garden. Aren't
vegitarians *amusing*?), then got to the pretty part of the drive.

We listened to Vivaldi for that part of the drive. I've never seen so
many *trees*!!! And *hills*!!! And *enticing* *combinations* of the
two! Everything was so steep and tree-covered. And did I mention the
trees? I was really impressed when we got up higher and there were
clouds coming down and couching themselves in the trees. Or were the
trees poking the coulds? I couldn't decide. It was so big and quiet
and grave and beautiful. And the Vivaldi was nice, too.

The walk from the cars to the tubs took maybe a half hour. I was
shivering because it was kinda drizzling, so Ed loaned me a bandana
to wear on my head (the first of several times that week I'd wear
other people's snotrags). Pretty walk. It was getting kinda dark by
the time we neared the hot springs.

I didn't think I'd be naked the first time I met everyone. But I was;
then again, so was most everyone else. We had a group of hot tubs to
ourselves by the time we got there, because the motssers who were
already there had spooked the strayts away. Hot tubs are *fun*; very
hot. And communal. I couldn't see too much, because it was dark and
blurry/foggy (depending on wheather or not I wore my glasses), so I
had no idea what my tubmates looked like, nor can I really even
remember who they *were*, so I left Bagby with as little an idea what
everyone looked like as I had before going (which made the next
evening's opening ceremonies seem like the first time all over again),
but it was a really fun time; those blurry blobs around me were
wonderful conversationalists.

A few times the strayts felt compelled to invade to get water buckets
or whatever, but we made use of the opportunities they provided for
mean-spirited entertainment (my favorite was the guy who came in for
a bucket (which had 3 or 4 of us naked faggost standing around it)
and made every effort to avoid bending over to get it (first he tried
to hook it on his fingers and snag it his way. It was full of water,
so his little plot failed. He looked kind of ill. Then, he reached in
hesitantly, avoiding touching any of the surrounding queers (who
feigned obliviousness) and lunging like a duelist, grabbed the handle
and got back to a more defensible position as quickly as possible.).

Shit, I have to turn the call waiting off. Fuck! I'll finish this in a
couple of minutes.

Roommates are *annoying*!

--
John Dorrance    ** Disco Diva y Flamenco Chico **    thaaang@odin.unomaha.edu

		I always thought of you as my brick wall
		   Built like an angel, six feet tall.
Newsgroups: soc.motss