Claire talks to everyone. Sam and I have said Claire and Diana have invisible signs on their foreheads that say, “ask me a question.” It can only be read by crazies. Think blacklight.
The information she gets is incredible. I have been there months and know just a few folks that share my interests. Claire knows all about EVERYONE the minute they arrive.
The sign has been bright in Key West, the force is strong here. While everyone has been cool and really great, a few have just been completely off their rockers.
Seems Key West is a natural draw for people looking to hide, escape reality, and change their life. Some change sexes, some spouses, some just change dimensions, for a minute or a lifetime. Most eventually run out of money and just slide deeper in. Most of this crowd tend to be Democrats, go figure.
When you add the boating crowd aspect, it gets really entertaining. Boaters are at least affluent enough to have a boat, and some can even pay slip rent….
We have met some really nice people, and many have become friends we both hope to stay in touch with. Almost all of these are Republicans, go figure.
So it was on the dock walking back to the boat that Wednesday night that Claire is asked a question about her backpack which starts an all-girl-dock-huddle conversation, which results in an invitation for a cocktail party Thursday afternoon, where a request is made for help with a Fantasy Fest float Saturday night by a beautiful, tall, cool-drink-of-water, knockout, redhead. You can’t make this stuff up.
Before it is over we both have a budding new group of friends, and some more stories.
24 people in a 14 seat van, last ride back to marina.
Saturday we hit both pools, walked around, and got ready for the parade.
The parade, which had about fifty floats, starts in the back of Truman Annex, then passes near Mallory Square, turns on to Duval Street and goes the length of Duval. We walked 6.3 miles in about two hours.
I was selected with three other husbands to be in the, “Chaos Control Committee” for our float, “Marathon Airlines”. Chaos Control get the only official Fantasy Fest t-shirt. They were a hot barter item. They were lime green this year. We had a apron with pockets for our giveaways, sexy.
Our function was to keep parade goers and float bead throwers from dashing between the truck and float, and helping the driver negotiate the couple of turns, police barricades, etc., all while walking in the exhaust of the diesel truck.
Absolute over-the-top enthusiasm from the bead throwers resulted in complete depletion of bead inventory by the halfway point, and from then on we scooped beads off the street and tossed them back.
We tossed beads, glow rope, and packaged condoms, the later of which was a futile attempt to keep some aspects of the Fantasy Fest populace from breeding successfully.
I traded a few glow ropes for a couple of cool led lighted foam batons, and used them to hit various revelers along the way.
The batons we’re a hit. I was exposed to and offered all sizes, shapes, ages, colors, and races of the exposed female breast for a baton. Yes, really.
Before it was over I had given my glow ropes to the little children along the path, and the baton to a little girl who was tired, had no beads, and just wanted to go home. No reason to keep this stuff and take it home, it costs diamonds to see Claire’s breasts.
We did not get any really good pictures, it was dark, we we’re moving, and frankly there was too much to see. If anything I should have videoed our two dancing girls that would flash the mob during the parade. They bumped and grinded each other the entire time. Best of show hands down.
A quick note, the police were in full force, and crowd control was absolute. We saw no one get out of line anywhere in anyway. Amazing and hats off to the cops.
So now we can say we have done it, and can relax for a couple weeks back home, leaving Choices hibernating for awhile.