What Happens at the Foot Fetish Place...

My Canuckistani drinking buddy made an enigmatic comment at his blog, "After the baby place, the beer and foot fetish place. The bastard will explain all." Yes, the Bastard will explain all, though the names will be left out of the post to protect any parties, innocent or not.

After the now-infamous Baby Beerhall Incident, Monsieur McGravitas and I took the 4 train to Midtown Manhattan. Not having any pressing engagements the next morning, we headed out to a venue where a good Friend of the Bastard runs an open mic night (don't want to give out T.M.I. in one post, so GOOGLE IT!). While the venue for the open mic night is a fairly straightforward restaurant, certain... shall we say... activities take place in a basement space. I'd had an inkling that something was going on, because there was always a steady stream of extraordinarily attractive young ladies passing through the restaurant. As it turns out, "foot fetish parties" are held in the basement Apparently, one pays twenty American dollars for a specific duration, in which one can indulge one's foot fetish with a young lady (STRICTLY NO NUDITY!).

Not having this particular fetish (I'm an unapologetic ass man, apparently the current number one unapologetic ass man in the rankings), I have never had an inclination to descend to the podiatric paraphilia playground, and merely enjoy a quick drink or a meal while listening to the open mic participants, and performing my singular musical act ***FUTURE POST***. I have to note that SMcG also refrained from descending to the depths of the Basement of Kink- there are no jumping grannies in the basement, at least not on Tuesday nights.

The Internet has brought broader exposure to a lot of outré sexual fetishes, the linear Kinsey Scale is completely inadequate for a world of furries, vorarephiliacs, and the like. Rather than a line segment, we need a "sexuality" scale that resembles a spirograph.