I went to a brunch today. The theme was Wear a Big Hat. Owing to a non-issue with my eyes I did not notice that the brunch was in Sacramento until two days ago (got the invite over two months ago, could I have read it?) and so naturally, having weathered a hectic week of skateboarding, swimming and occasional gardening, I was super pooped by Saturday and had a hard time wrasslin’ my bunz out of bed this morning, leading to the 36-year-old devolved self that didn’t want to wear a hat and couldn’t be bothered to belt my pants. I arrived at the brunch with my romantic colleague who had an unthinkable hat: baby blue skull cap topped by six-inch-wide rainbow (the rainbow itself was six inches wide, it stretched about 18-24 inches across) kept aloft by some sort of inner structure. Each end had puffy clouds attached and then there was one puffy cloud sewn to the front of the baby blue skull cap. It was abusively hilarious. Everyone at the party wanted to put it on and take a picture. It was like bringing a baby except you could swear around it (and I DID). I ate twenty gluten-free muffins and five eggs and ten cups of coffee. Good plan!

After the party we went out for sushi with some friendship colleagues. We ate sushi, a Japanese-style food popular in large U.S. cities, and a smattering of small cities (usually the ones near big ones). Everything on the 18-page menu was deep fried. I don’t understand how that is true but it is. No one suggested they have some non-fried options, or if they did, they were shut down like a weak athlete. The place was huge, kind of felt like Ikea, a never-ending maze of rooms in which to eat. There was a vodka and red bull special. What jerk threw that on the wipe board? My friend Linda has a story about a sober friend of hers drinking too many Red Bulls and getting kicked out of the Eagle, where you can indulge in everything from the peanut barrel to anal fisting and no one will notice. Somehow she lamed out so hard on Red Bull she was asked to leave. My chapeau is off to you, spaz.

My romantic colleague and I drove back to the Bay Area where I dropped her off at a play party. You heard me right. Her housemate was hosting one down around Lake Merritt. We rolled up and could not find the dungeon/sling-a-teria so we found an obvious lesbian walking around looking confused which turned out to be more because she was shit drunk than the obscurity of the door to the party. She piled into the back of my already-stinky Element (got a tarp of yard debris in there I need to unload) and actually overrode the smell with her drunken brine. We found the party and she jumped out, gave me a big hug and teetered off to screw. I checked that my purse was still in the car.

Now we will interview my colleague about the play party.

Me: N, you know it’s not the 90’s, right?

N: I am aware of that fact.

Me: What was your purpose in attending a play party?

N: I went to support my housemate and as a cultural excursion.

Me: What was the first thing you saw after going through the door? Safety goggles? HAZMAT suits?

N: I saw a beautiful, well-maintained loft and a huge spread of food at the back. They had my favorite kind of hummus.

Me: What is your favorite kind of hummus?

N: Sabra for sure.

Me: When did you first see sex happen?

N: In fact I did not see sex happen. Only beatings and other kinds of play. There were two levels.

Me: Did you see any nudity?

N: Quite a bit. And I will say, there were many gigantic breasts, which is interesting for a “boy” party. (I type that.) Nina: That’s b-o-i.

Me: Pardon me.

N: Aren’t you impressed with the hummus?

Me: What hummus?

N: (pregnant pause) Aren’t you impressed they had the finest store-bought hummus on the market?

Me: Absolutely. So what did you most enjoy watching?

N: There was an epic wrestling battle between the drunk one and a very tough woman.

Me: How could you tell she was tough?

N: Because the drunk one said that even though he was losing, at least he got to have titties and pussy in his face.

Me: and that made her tough?

N: It was clear that she was winning and not having too much trouble doing it.

Me: Little drunkenstein might not have been the toughest opponent.

N: And she (the tough one) managed to keep her boobs in her shirt despite drunk guy’s best efforts. That made her tough.

Me: I’m convinced.

N: I also met a pair of PhD students who had to leave early so that they could write. So that they could work on their dissertations.

Me: Did you see them do anything sexual?

N: No but I saw the roll-y bag of treats and toys

Me: That belonged to them?

N: They came prepared.

Me: What made you finally decide to leave?

N: I didn’t want to be trapped in Oakland overnight.

Me: Did you see your housemate?

N: I saw her and her girlfriend who was very protective of me. They wanted to make sure I was having a good time. When I was leaving she told me to “walk tough” like this (N makes a fist and squinches up her face). They think I’m weak and vanilla. I like them.

Me: How will you prove your mighty sexual prowess to them?

N: (laughs)

I will conclude our interview here. Nina took the BART and bus back to my house where she ate pupusas and allowed me to interview her while petting my cat (LITERALLY). Now it’s time to move along.