My favorite evening of Fantasy Fest is thursday. Toga night!
The voyeur in me comes out.
Before describing the gritty details, a brief toga history.
The toga is a garment of ancient Rome. White cloth. Drapped over the shoulders and around the body.
The toga and Rome cover many years. Modes of dress changed. What is set forth is generally what was the case.
Initially, the toga was worn with no undergarments. Romans were frugal. Then a garment underneath became the style. The tunic.
The toga was formal wear for men. Like wearing a suit today. The ladies initially wore togas, also. As time went on, they moved from the toga to a long Greek type gown. Except for prostitutes. Prostitutes wore togas at all times.
Thursday night during Fantasy fest is toga time!
Many will attire themselves in togas. More females than males. Many of the ladies wear nothing beneath the togas.
The event takes place in Sloppy Joe’s and outside on the street in front of Sloppy’s. The crowd overwhelming. Spectators/voyeurs and toga wearers.
A game is played. Generally on the street. A lady will be encircled by a group of men. Beads come into play. The men will want the lady to show her breasts. She will negotiate for beads. When an acceptable number has been arrived at, she will lower her toga and exhibit her breasts.
The negotiation then moves to her genital area. The bead cost higher. The negotiation concluded, the lady will lift her toga and show everyone the down under.
Next, the derriere. The butt brings the most beads. Very heavy negotiations. An acceptable number arrived at, the lady lifts her toga and exhibits her butt.
The exhibitions are not swift. The men get their beads’ worth. The ladies thrilled to show all.
Ten to fifteen of these negotiations are ongoing simultaneously for hours.
Note, women of all ages involved.
As mentioned yesterday, sex is absolutely prohibited during Fantasy Fest. There seems to be an exception. At 3-4 in the morning, the togas come off and the sexes engage. I only know this from word of mouth and photos. I could never stay up that late, even for sex.
My yesterday began with lunch at Sandy’s Cafe. Followed by a manicure at 1 with Tammy.
Initially, I was Tammy’s only customer. I asked, “All this overhead for me?”
Stopped at Walgreens on the way home. Finally got my flu shot.
Last night, Blue Macaw for 2 hours. I wanted to get out. I have been staying in evenings trying to finish a book I seem to have been writing forever.
Terri was singing. Donna with her, of course. Chatted a while with Doug. Tuesday was tutu night. Male and females so attired all over town. Doug had been out and about. Wore a kilt in place of a tutu. Preserved his masculinity. Correctly wore nothing under the kilt. Said he spent the evening mooning everyone.
Lynda and Bob Frechette came in. First time at Blue Macaw. I sat with them a while. Two of the best people in Key West. Involved, well known, loved.
Two drinks and I was on my way home. It was only 8 o’clock.
Now for a most important and disturbing item. The bombs discovered yesterday. Unquestionably, terrorism. National terrorism. I suspect one of our own out to hurt certain of his/her fellow citizens.
I believe without question the bombs the result of Trump’s violent rhetoric. His anger and hatred relentless. The damage attempted by the bombs an inevitable event. Trump’s words the motivation.
It has to stop. It will not as long as Trump continues his destructive ways. He will. He may have toned down a bit last night. He will not be able to keep his words down. Not his nature. In fact, I found his words last night more mocking than a direction to calm down, stop.
Next will come action in the streets. Not mere demonstrations. Clashes.
Actual revolution a possibility. I have been suggesting such might occur for a while.
Hard to believe. In the United States?
We continue to live in the Germany of the 1930’s. Everyone, beginning with Trump, put the brakes on!
Enjoy your day!