~Sunday~ I woke up at 11:30 and looked outside to the dreariest weather ever. It looked like it was still dark out. I rolled back over and about a minute later, there was a bang on our window.
Well, I turned around to look at the window and about had a heart attack. Did I mention that we were on the 34th floor? Did I mention it was a dreary rainy day? There was a man spread across the glass like Spiderman, washing our windows! Really? You can’t do that later in the day? And you can’t do it on a nicer day?
I showered first, and while Kevin showered, I ran next door to Bockwinkle’s—that place where I yesterday learned that Apollo learned that you walk on the left, as a pup of course—and I got coffee and bagels for Kevin and me for breakfast.
Before leaving the room we flipped our room service request indicator from tied up to tidy up.
At 3:00, Kevin and I watched a rope-tying demo done by a “Rope Top” who Kevin knew from Seattle. “Rope Top” is the term that Kevin used, and like all vernacular, I’m sure it means something to the discourse community in which it originated and is used. Personally, I don’t know if rope or top is being used as an adjective or a noun, or perhaps, the two words together are a compound noun.
Here are two potential meanings:
- Sexually, he is a “top,” and he ties rope. (Rope as adjective, top as noun.)
- He is the top roper in the circle in which he competes. (So, “rope top” as a sort of compound noun.)
On the one hand, I’m inclined to believe it should be interpreted as meaning #2, as Kevin had described him as being among the best rope-tying people in Seattle. But if that is the case, then I would expect it to be something like “Top Roper.”
On the other hand, I know the guy is a “top” sexually, so it could very well have meaning #1. Why I’m disinclined to go with that interpretation, though, is because it just seems odd to me to insert your sexual proclivity into your job title.
After all, my entry in the university director doesn’t say, “Technical Communicator Top,” nor does my personnel classification say, “Technology Support Analyst Top.”
UPDATE! It was suggested to me by my friend Anna, after reading my musings about “rope top,” that her thought was that it means that a rope top is the one doing the tying, and she assumes the person getting tied would be called the rope bottom! That makes perfect sense to me! I’m sure my friend Kevin will confirm (or deny) this when he finally reads this entry.)
Disclaimer: What follows are several pictures of some of the goings-on in the Leather Vendor Market area, including several of the aforementioned “rope top” tying up three “boys,” two “football players” tied together, and one guy demoing some “e-stim” gadgetry for sale.
I’m going to put these pictures behind a cut, so you’ll only see them of your own volition. The football players are fully-clothed, some might say over-clothed; the rope top’s boys are basically only in jock straps; and the guy helping out with the e-stim demo is completely naked.
Another view of the blinded, bound, and uniformed.
A Colt model modeling… how to tie a bow?
A Colt model pandering to the pit hair fetish crowd.
Open-butt singlet boy distributing ad cards for recon.com.
“Rope Top” (with his back to us) toward the beginning of his work.
Rope Top biceps!
To be honest, I’m all about the Rope Top butt and thighs at this point.
Evidently, an onlooker feels the same way!
I believe Kevin called this a “cradle knot,” but honestly? I was distracted.
Darn it! I keep forgetting to pack my scissors in my jock strap.
Rope Top tying up his (life) partner.
One of the finished “products.”
They later rubbed a “tickler” all over this guy’s body, including under his feet!.
One of the other finished “products” about to be suspended.
And we have suspension!
And finally, we have the e-stim product demo guy.
After all that, I took the train up to Boystown, where I had a late lunch at The Chicago Grill.
I thought for sure I’d be able to get a “Chicago Hot Dog” there, but imagine my surprise when I opened the menu and it said, “The Chicago Diner. Meat Free since ’83.” I had to read through it a couple of times to convince myself that a place with a name like The Chicago Diner could actually be totally meatless, because some of the items had names like “burger” as part of them. I ended up getting their soup of the day, which was a roasted red pepper soup and a salad with some most delicious Creamy Ginger dressing.
Before leaving the area later in the evening, I went on a hunt for a Chicago hot dog. While walking along Halsted, I Googled “chicago hot dog halsted,” and not pleased with the results, I walked just a little further, when I came to the intersection of Clark on Halsted, and lo and behold, this was on the corner:
where I bought these beauties:
I know “true” Chicago hot dogs have other things on them like pickles and relish, but I left off stuff I don’t like. And those peppers? There were four of them on each hot dog, and I bit off the tip of the first one and just the juice alone from it about burned out my mouth. I put them aside and left them there.
I couldn’t find the stop for the IML-Boystown Shuttle, for which I had a free pass, so I took the train back. There was one of those guys being a “pup” on the bus, and although I’m sure he thought some girls (RGs) sitting nearby were laughing with him, I’m pretty sure they were laughing at him.
Back at the hotel, I finished off the bottle of Maker’s Mark with my first drink, and then made several trips up and down to the lobby and back to get refills, ultimately making a big enough dent in the Canadian Club to not feel too bad about leaving the rest if I had to. Kevin’s staying an extra night, so he may be able to bring it to a room party or something.