Oh, Mercy. What a night.

Tonight was GMSMA's Leather/Fetish Fashion Show Program. The set-up of the room was great. The music was great. It was a good crowd. The vendors were awesome. Alas. The MC showed up just as the program was starting. Ergo, I had no time to brief him on format. I had planned to be the backstage manager. In addition to making sure that everything went smoothely and coaching the models ("take your time out there, go really slow: walk, stop, stand, turn, stand, walk, stop, stand, turn..."), I'd be able to run through the little speeches I planned to make concerning two of the vendors. Once the MC was on stage, I headed back behind the partition to get to work. No sooner had I ducked behind the partition then I heard him ask for me to join him on stage. Uh oh. So I stood next to him whispering in his ear, "Nasty Pig is up next." The models moved like they were in track and field time trials. Everyone had gone, the various schticks we had worked up had gone down, and I looked at my watch and we had forty minutes to kill to make a one-hour program. Beelzebub. If I had been wearing a sword, I would have thrown myself on my sword. We had all the models out on stage for the Grand Finale. Unfortunately, most of them had changed back into street clothes as no one was backstage to tell them there was going to be a Grand Finale. A lengthy (and pretty torturous) Q&A with the audience ensued. Not many people had questions, because, well... the event was largely visual. When presented with eye candy, you're not really thinking in terms of probing deeper. With questions, that is.

There are three programs I'm coordinating this season. Number One was the first program of the season, back in September. There was one presenter, and it was ARt. Even though I had not much in the way of lead time (because I was at Inferno), I was in frequent contact with ARt, and managed to make sure that everything was perfect. I devised a novel arrangement of the room that worked well. There was good attendance, and it went off without a hitch. Tonight was Number Two. I swear, I will redeem myself with Number Three. I have until April 26th to work on it. I have most of a proposed outline constructed. I'm going to comb the known universe for presenters. The big challenge is that it's a panel discussion, on S/M and drug use. Panel discussions tend not to bring out the crowds. I'm hoping that because the subject is controversial, that may not be the case in this instance.

I'm glad it's over. So glad. Tomorrow I'll call around and check in with the vendors, making sure that it was a good experience for them, and thanking them for their participation.

And, as I was coming out of the LGBT (I pronounce that acronym Lug-Butt) Center, I heard my name called. There was Does Windows. Such the sight for sore eyes. He helped me take the gear to my jeep, and I dropped everything off at the Leatherman. Then, we went to dinner at Sazerac. He showed me how to write my name in Arabic, and told me how he had come to do windows. Apparently, he's very good at it, and much sought after. Like that.

Now, I'm going to spend some time Not Thinking, but rather making chit-chat with the men on Leather Navigator. Then I go to bed.

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Don't kick the football, Charlie Brown!

Boss Sunshine was in the office today for the first time in about fifteen days. He was delightful, warm, funny, productive, supportive, and endearing. Just like Lucy when she's trying to get Good Ol' Charlie Brown to kick the football. And, of course, Lucy pulls it away at the last second and Charlie Brown goes flying.

I won't do it.

I won't kick the football.

Not again.

(That's what Charlie Brown always tells himself, too, right?)

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