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The NOLA adventure

Where to start, I’m usually sharing this story with people who already know where we started and for that matter where it was leading, how we got to that place, that time, that moment. As a casual reader, you may not share that same intimacy, the luxury of familiarity that we do. I will do my best to build you a bridge to our world, at least this small moment in time, in our world. You may be surprised, but try not to be to be judgmental, enjoy our story for what it is, what it was, an adventure; we did, but then, we lived it. Come along then, it’s time to start.

The beginning, for me, their beginning may be entirely different. You’ll have to ask them. For the past 18 months, I have been a member of an online community, one that does not publish its membership count but boasts a weekly growth rate of some 10,000 new members. We are a visual group by nature, as such; the number of new pictures posted is staggering and stimulating. With the help of new friends, I easily learned to navigate the different areas of the website. There are stories to read, chat rooms and my favorite, the forums. Topics range from word games to safe sex practices and everything in between. I am not what anyone would call the CandyCrush type. I need and want more stimulation and interaction than FaceBook offers. This has become my guiltless little pleasure.

Like many online communities, there are rules, antagonists and friendships to be formed. It’s hard not to make friends when you are talking day in and day out to many of the same people. From the very beginning, for me, it was both easy and natural to cultivate virtual relationships. My generation grew up with pen pals, writing to people you never met nor expected too. This was an easy extension of that childhood pastime. Of course, I’m also quite familiar with FaceBook, Yammer, OKCupid and a myriad of other dating sites. Though, any similarity to mine or anyone’s childhood pastime or for that matter FaceBook ends here.

When I first learned of and then joined this website I never dreamt I would meet such interesting people or that I would eventually be flying all over the country just to meet these new friends. We come from all walks of life and our ages range from 20-somethings to 60-somethings. I’ve even chatted with and read articles by founding, and still active members who are now in their 70s – good for them. Our community shares a penchant for a unique set of games, ones best played in person. Our fun and games are frowned upon by many in what we lovingly refer to as the ‘vanilla’ world. Oh well, to each his or her own. The one thing we crave, regardless of age or profession is a need for, no need is too strong a word, a want for – for what? How to adequately describe the ‘want’? I think our weekend story, our adventure, though not unique by any means, and tame according to some, will answer that question better than any one-liner I could write.

It was a regular Friday night, I’d just gotten home from a night out with the girls and as this is my preferred activity to unwind I hopped online to read the forums and see who was in the chat room. The group in chat changes depending on a number of things. Could be the specific chat room (there are several), the time of day, the day of the week and even the season. Many of us enjoy outdoor sports – in my area of the country boating is a favorite pastime. I’d been in chat a few minutes, chatting with regulars when he popped in; sauntered might be a better word. It was late, already one o’clock in the morning on the east coast. I did not recognize this screen name but he was lively, friendly and certainly not shy.

I quickly grew fond of Greg and his playful, witty personality. He could hold his own with veteran members. It can be hard to break into the forum and chat communities, he did it with flying colors. I could tell he was new to this website and to this chat room but obviously not new to our community – he knew too much, he knew the lingo, the slang if you will. There are other websites devoted to our type of membership and Greg and I have introduced each other to some of our respective favorites. He likes to point out, every chance he gets that I refer to Reddit as Rabbit. That was just one way our age difference was glaringly evident. Still, we took to each other. Most people I engage with online I never expect to meet so age is never a barrier to friendship. Greg and I started private chatting that very night (morning), answering and asking questions and getting to know each other, sharing stories. Within a few short days, we moved from the site to a private messaging platform. I was getting to know not only him but his wife, Catherine. I had not spoken to her yet but she was clearly aware of our conversations. There was nothing to hide, she shared our same interests and I wanted to know her as much as him. They seemed so happy, in love and rather adventurous. That adventurous side is one aspect that binds our community. We are adventurous, not to be mistaken with risk takers, though I’ve heard of a few.

Sharing stories of our escapades is something many of us enjoy, whether online or in person. We all have colorful stories to share, some are funny and some are downright outrageous. We share stories about what we’ve done, and what we dream of doing, fantasize about doing. This little tidbit is important, it means I knew certain things Greg and Catherine had yet to do but wanted to. By the same token, it means many of my other friends knew things I wanted to do but hadn’t. Be careful what you wish for folks, your friends are listening and apparently, some are taking notes. In time, like others, we decided to meet in person. While younger, Greg and Catherine have been welcoming and open since the very beginning of our friendship. It took some coordination for all of us to fly away for three full days and nights. Me having to book dogs into a kennel, they, on the other hand, had to find a babysitter for a three-year-old. It has been twenty-some years since I had to worry about a toddler. An age difference can be ignored when cultivating a virtual relationship, this was moving to the real world. We professed to have no expectations other than to meet, have some fun, a mini vacation of sorts. Ha, our community always has, if not expectations, hopes.

Others would be joining us for parts of the weekend. That detail was a closely held secret on my part. Each person in the group professed to enjoy surprises and this group would live up to that and then some. New Orleans was the perfect location, a readily available group of partners in crime though Kevin prefers a slightly different term. I so wish Kevin and Kaye could have joined us, another adventure for other time.

Here we go, our flights got in about the same time that Thursday afternoon. We met at the Bed & Breakfast at two o’clock. Hugs were shared all around, followed by “you look just like your pictures.” Greg and Catherine were just as I imagined, fun, friendly, engaging with a hint of naughty. We went upstairs to settle into our separate, yet adjoining rooms. We would meet up again at seven o’clock. The sounds coming from their adjoining room let me know in no uncertain terms, those two needed a mini vacation without a three-year-old in tow. The B&B proprietress, Beatrice, was yet another community member I’d met on-line. This was going to be a fun-filled weekend with new and newer friends. We would enjoy good food, tours of the French Quarter and dancing, yes there had to be dancing. I’d forgotten to ask Greg if he danced. Not that it really mattered; men are merely props when women go club dancing. Beatrice and her partner Jason had already made reservations for Friday at Collette’s for the seven of us. Since nothing happens before eleven o’clock, dinner reservations were being handled by one of the other locals in our weekend group. Many of us claimed to be epicureans but we had all learned that Dan truly was. He was a legend at finding restaurants that provided both a sensual atmosphere and interesting food choices that weren’t too heavy. Both would set the stage for our Friday fun, the real beginning of our adventure. Or so I thought.

This was a first visit to New Orleans for Catherine, Greg and for me. It was nice knowing there were locals who would help us navigate not only the city but the events of the weekend. Was I nervous? Yes, but excited at the same time. You never know when such an eclectic group first meets how, or if, the chemistry will gel. Nevertheless, I felt confident there was a good mix of personalities and ages in the group for things to come together nicely. We would finally put faces with names Keeping everyone's name straight could be problematic. Would I remember that BlueEyedNOLA was actually Beatrice and Jason? Would I have to keep saying I’m DanceMaiden when I saw that look in people’s eyes, you know the “who are you again” look? I’d heard others joke about wearing name tags, now I wasn’t so sure we didn’t need them. This was going to be fun; at the very least, we would each have a new ‘story’ for our collection and Greg and Catherine would have their own first story.

For now, I wanted to get to know Catherine better. Greg and I had already spent many hours talking on-line and texting each other. Knowing how close this couple was I knew he had shared many of our conversations and several of the pictures I’d sent. Still, I wanted us to build our own relationship, build that trust and comfort that women need to have with each other. For Thursday night, Beatrice helped me find the perfect venue for the two of us in the French Quarter, a fun, no pressure activity. Catherine had never been to a Corks N Canvas class, she was in for a treat. Regardless of the name of the studio, this type of establishment provides guests with a canvas, paints, and an instructor, in a light, friendly atmosphere. All we had to bring was whatever food and drink we wanted. I’d packed a nice light picnic along with a bottle of skinny girl raspberry vodka and orange juice. The picnic was a combination of fruits, veggies, cold cuts, crackers, and cheese. Not knowing where the evening would lead, I did not want the meal to be too heavy.

Corks N Canvas was hosting a private party; however, Beatrice knew the group holding the party and asked if they had to available seats, they did. Beatrice was not only well connected within our community, in New Orleans, she apparently knew everyone downtown. I’d read online that this paint party was a women’s only event and the painting we were doing was called Baseball Jersey with Name. Seemed like an odd choice for women, maybe many of their boyfriends and husbands were on the same softball team. It didn’t really matter, as long as we had fun and were able to get to know each other. It was refreshing knowing this class would be all women. Though, had I understood the French Quarter better I might have known to question that particular detail. I didn’t, and I didn’t. In hindsight, allowing Beatrice to book this for us should have been my first clue. As you learn more about Beatrice you will grow to adore her as we do and still you will agree with that last assessment.

We met on the front porch of the B&B at seven o’clock sharp. Greg thought he was on his own for the evening and planned to drop by Channing Tatum’s Saints and Sinners for the Burlesque show. Little did he know his wife shared that tidbit with me. Always a gentleman, he walked us to the paint studio, it was conveniently located next door to Saints and Sinners. He was a bit surprised then when a group of way too friendly men were standing outside the club and greeted each of us by our names. I turned to Greg and with a wink said “enjoy your first evening in the French Quarter; we’ll see you in a few hours.” The guys introduced themselves. Jason (Beatrice’s’ partner), Dan, and the final legendary member of the NOLA trifecta, Gavin took Greg off for an evening of manly bonding while Catherine and I went to our painting party. We’d rendezvous with the guys later.

I was taken aback when we walked into Corks N Canvas and found Beatrice there as well. I’d only seen her in pictures online but she was a dead ringer for those pictures, even prettier if that were possible. She thought it would be great fun for all three of us to get to know each other before tomorrow evening. Ahhh okay, good thing I’d packed a little extra food. We chatted as we got our aprons, paint brushes, paints, and towels. The other women made us feel welcome and comfortable, so nice of them to include us in their private party.

I was somewhat surprised the canvases were not set up and ready, they always were at Pinot’s Palette events at home. We appeared to be the last ones to arrive and there was a four-top table waiting for the three of us. It was plain to see Beatrice knew the owner/instructor as they chatted easily. While the two of them caught up, Catherine and I had a few moments alone. Finally, the instructor, who looked eerily familiar, pointed to some hooks saying they were for clothes. Such an innocent slip of the tongue, she said clothes instead of coats. Again, hindsight is twenty-twenty. Those who wore light jackets hung them up then we all put on our aprons.

The instructor introduced herself as Belinda, beautiful name – it matched her natural beauty and easy going nature. She gave a brief history of the shop, pointed out the restrooms, sinks, and extra towels. She said we had about 30 minutes to mingle, set up our food and drinks and get comfortable before the fun would begin. Beatrice and Catherine chatted as I set out our picnic and mixed us some screwed berries. Cork N Canvas did not need to supply any music that came through loud and clear from Saints & Sinners. If the music and occasional shouts were any indication the guys were having a grand old time.

Things settled down when Belinda said the canvases had just arrived. Just arrived? What kind of establishment was this? I told myself to let it go, we were here to have fun not critique a business. The overhead lights dimmed enough to get our attention and we could see the back door had opened and the music from next door got louder. Both Catherine’s and my jaw dropped when Greg and the other men walked in followed by 12 other equally hot men. Did I fail to mention how deliciously hot Greg, Gavin, Jason and Dan were? Be still my beat heart and any other women’s close enough to smell the intensely masculine scent of these 16 stallions. Now there were 16 men of varying ages and sizes in our midst. From tall and lean to wide and strong, all had what I can only describe as devilish smiles on their faces. What in the world was going on? I felt l was in some altered universe – as though someone else was pulling all the strings, making all the plans. Remember what I told you about friends and their notes.

Now we had 15 women in aprons ready to paint and 16 men ready to, ready to what? Paint with us. Maybe this was actually a couple’s private party; having heard some of Beatrice and Jason’s stories that would make perfect sense. I was not sure Catherine and Greg were ready for their brand of fun, for that matter, I’m not sure I was either. Still, the men were not carrying any canvases and they were dressed in clothing that would get ruined if paint spattered on them.

Belinda walked over to the line of men and said just as casually as if she were saying “takes your coats off,” “gentleman, please remove your shirts and trousers and hang them over here so we can all get started.” The men uniformly stripped to their, oh, how best to describe this so you get the full visual effect. Imagine 16 gorgeous men standing in a single row in front of a classroom like setting with 16 ah-struck women watching them. Seeing them all together, I was struck by how similar all of their slacks looked. READY - in one smooth movement they all pulled at their waistbands and 16 pairs of tear-away pants went flying through the air. Oh My God, all 16 ‘packages’ were identically wrapped. Clearly, the guys had filled Greg in on all of this because he was openly comfortable and in sync with the others. They were a well-choreographed group – apparently, they’d paid close attention to the burlesque show.

Talk about a sight. From the whoops and hollers, you would have thought we were watching Magic Mike and his gang. I’d heard New Orleans was a decadent town, and I’m no prude, but even for me, this was a bit overboard. Oh, I wasn’t complaining – this was fun, right out of a movie. I was hoping Greg and Catherine were okay with everything – I needn’t have worried.

“Ladies, your canvases are ready, shall we begin?” I’d like to say I had no idea what she was talking about, but, this was “our” community. The painting subject (baseball jerseys) now made perfect sense. We were about to paint the jerseys onto the guys. Belinda joined us at our table. As the guys walked over to our table I realized why Belinda looked familiar, she was Gavin’s wife, the other half of the profile known as FrenchQuarterB&G. Taking a closer look around the room, many of these couples looked familiar. Beatrice had pulled a fast one, she wanted us to meet as many of the French Quarter group as she could round up. Wow, she really got me. I no longer had to wonder if all the antics she and Jason posted online were true – this was all the proof I needed. Their stories were fantasy worthy.

Who was I going to paint? I’d never met any of them in person. Granted I knew them, quite well actually. As Greg moved over to Catherine she bit her lower lip. She knew every inch of this man, how he thought, what he liked, and yet she appeared visibly as nervous as a school girl. For married couples, I’d always heard that was a big part of the attraction of this fun we enjoyed. By now even I knew this probably was not going to be an innocent meet & greet evening. Alright, let’s paint the boys. Oh no, the surprises were not over yet. Once all the women were with their husbands, dates, mates or partners Belinda said: okay gents, everyone move two seats to your left. Ladies, stay right where you are. Wow, I’ve been to some fun parties but this was going to be one for the books. No one batted an eye, the men moved without hesitation and introduced themselves to their new partner in crime or would they be partners in pleasure. How was it possible that Greg was standing in front of me? I started to protest but Catherine smiled, winked over at me and mouthed ‘have fun.’

And who now stood in front of Catherine? Why Dan, of course, a man I dearly wanted to learn about firsthand. I wondered if the stories I'd heard about him were true. If so, Catherine was one lucky lady. I'd read a certain episode of his over and over. It took place in a steamy shower stall – it was actually written by a husband about his wife and Dan. He gave just enough detail, to make you want to know what actually happened in there. No worries, the weekend was young and we do like to share.

Belinda instructed us to pick up our number three paint brushes, the thickest one we had and dip it in the white paint. She said we had to ‘ready’ the canvas by painting it white. She reminded us that these were official jerseys, so we needed to be mindful that those types of jerseys go almost all the way to the knee. We now vividly understood why the gents ‘packages’ were sheathed in those tiny little g-string thongs. All these bare-chested men – no idea how they were keeping their packages under wraps. I was wet just looking at this pool of manliness. The other women wore similar smiles to mine so I was guessing we were all squirming on our little artist stools for exactly the same reason.

What was a gal to do? I picked up my number three brush and started painting. It was latex paint, very sticky, not easy to brush so I find I had to hold on to Greg to get the paint where I needed it. I put my hand on his left shoulder and started painting his neck, his right shoulder, his right arm and wrist. I made sure I kept my eyes trained on his eyes. Not that easy to do. I finally manage to get all of his torso painted, front and back and his arms. All of the women were working at the same breakneck speed I was. Well, we did know this was merely an appetizer to what the evening really held in store for us.

Shall I continue?