One Key Away: Queer Singles Mixer

Friday, February 09, 07:30 pm, FREE

Join Babeland and City Beat for our Valentine’s Day Queer Singles Mixer. Enjoy complimentary cocktails, hors d’oeuvre, music, and hand massages! This event is free and is open to the LGBTQ community. There is an optional rental of the One Key Away matchmaking device ($15 pre-registration or $20 at the door). The One Key Away device is part psychology, part technology, and serves as both an icebreaker and an amazingly effective tool.

I was pretty curious about this matchmaking device so I checked out the OneKeyAway Mixers site. Here’s the skinny:

Every guest completes a personality/lifestyle questionnaire and the answers are programmed into small electronic devices, “e-Keys”. When two guests find an initial attraction, they point their devices at each other, push a button, the devices exchange data and give an instant compatibility rating.

There’s a regular questionnaire, and another you can fill out for the particular event. It wasn’t long, and I think most of the subjects are basic enough for a general “compatibility rating”. Here are the categories I filled out on mine: relationship expectations (date lots of people, LTR, etc.), emotional responsiveness (e.g., When I give my opinion, I defend it with conviction and try to convince others and I dislike small talk or nonsense conversation. I’m passionate about what I believe in, but I value small talk.) Personal behaviors (I like to have power and be in command. Sexually, sure.) Habits and personality traits (I’m a loner-liberal). What you like to do in your spare time (activities outdoors, indoors, hobbies, nothing specific). And my two favorites that seem to pop up constantly: Do you work long hours or have a second job? and How do you feel about religious affiliations?

These are all paraphrased, of course, and there are a wider variety of choices than what I mentioned. You can register for free and check out the events in your area, or just fill out the questionnaire.

So, okay, I register, rent a device that’s encoded with my amazing potential and “zap” people. Sadly, I can’t randomly zap others, they have to agree. This is probably a good policy, or you’d have people like me zapping everyone in sight, and approaching anyone with a smidgen of compatibility with great one-liners like, “Hey, you wanna get out of here and into my bed?” Maybe I shouldn’t go. I have a few hours to decide.

Technorati : LGBTQ, Valentine’s Day, bisexuals, dating, gay, mixers, singles
Ice Rocket : LGBTQ, Valentine’s Day, bisexuals, dating, mixers, singles

I’ve been told that I don’t need to read books like Lou Paget’s How to Be a Great Lover, Dr. Hilda Hutcherson’s What Your Mother Never Told You About S-e-x and Pleasures, or the fantastic Violet Blue’s Ultimate Guides Series. Because I’m a friggin’ natural, right? While I might have a higher sex drive than most, and I’m more than willing to dabble in anything kinky at least once (generally four or five times before I lose interest), I wasn’t born with a working knowledge of intersexual relations. My repertoire was built from experience, observation, and yes, books. The candor I’ve encountered in books and in different workshops has definitely lent a hand in my own openness. And as candid as I appear to be, still, there are things that I don’t tell others about, and after reviewing the fantasies I’ve never or seldom mentioned I’ve discovered that their main theme doesn’t include others. In short, they’re humanly or technologically (I’m tipping my hand there, eh?) impossible. I’m proud to say that at the very least I’m completely honest about the things I’d like to do with other people. And that’s a big step in the right direction. The benefits of divulging that part of my psyche is problematical at this point.

I’m glad that I can explore my sexuality without some of the inhibitions and prejudices that seem to hedge others in. In the 1991 preface to The Joy of Sex, Dr. Alex Comfort said, “Children are not encouraged to be embarrassed about their play: adults often have been and are still. So long as play is not hostile, cruel, unhappy, or limiting, they need not be.” I’ve experienced all of those positions. (Adding those to all the other positions I’ve indulged in, it’s a wonder I’ve managed to become oh, so skilled in such a short time. All of that makes for a hefty resume.) I have to say that my socially-responsible, health-aware, devil-may-care approach to the delights of coital escapades is far more preferable. I’ve come a long way from the shy, inhibited, in-the-closet bisexual teen mess I was. What an adventure it was getting here! I wouldn’t take back any of the blunders I’ve made in my pursuit of a good orgasm or two. What with the books, classes, and kindly help of expert lovers, I can say I’m a damn good lover myself.

So here’s to growing and loving and learning. May we get what we deserve…and get it good.

Technorati : about me, bisexuality, books, fantasies, sex, sexblogs, sexuality
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Ice Rocket : bisexuality, fantasies, sex, sexblogs, sexuality

I, myself, have found that speaking of my own fantasies is incredibly difficult. Most times, if asked, I’ll demure and say that I have private fantasies to get off on, and they’re no one else’s business. That still holds true. However, these past few years I’ve found that the act of speaking out has had positive consequences. My greatest fear previous to this…”enlightenment” has been the fear of rejection. I’d thought that once someone knew the depths of my depravity, they’d either want to have nothing to do with me whatsoever, or see me as the fulfillment of their own fantasies. Of course, now that I’ve recognized the line drawn between love and lust, that’s not such an issue anymore. What is at issue now is the fact that so many people, men for the most part, seem to think that only the “bad girls” do that. Anyone I was dating would never impose their fantasies on me. In fact, they’re so scrupulously correct, they’d never let me impose mine on them…even verbally.

Quite a few times I’ve been told, “Porn fantasies? With strangers or horny sluts, yes. Never with you, baby.” Really? C’mon…really? Are you fucking serious?! I would kill for a partner that’d explore my fantasies with me, and let me in on his. We could do some really creative sexual spelunking. Sadly, this attitude has frightened off more than one. At the best, I get a squeeze and a peck on the cheek, letting me know that my sexual peccadilloes are charming, but never to be fulfilled. Gee whillikers, thanks, you friggin’ cunt tease.

One day soon, people are going to realize that the best thing that they can do for themselves, their partners, and their relationships as a whole is to be honest about what they’re into. Can you imagine what it’d be like, to have your significant other be the concatenation of your every desire? Every night would be a wondrous journey in love and lust. Combined. Should you marry, the quest for further experiences would take you a lifetime to achieve. How great would that be?

I suppose I could start the ball rolling, but I think I already have. I’m going to make reading my blog a requirement for any future relationships. Not flings, of course. Who’s got the time when you just want to get your jollies?

Technorati : fantasies, sex, sexblogs
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When she got out of her car, my confidence flagged a bit. She was in her fifties herself. But I try to live by the maxim: Nothing risked, nothing gained. Especially when it comes to my own sexcapades. I climbed out of my dull little Honda Civic and strolled over at a sedate pace. I complimented her on her taste in vehicles, and was surprised to see her looking me up and down in a rather sultry way. Sure, I’d just been toying with the fantasy, but I definitely didn’t expect an opening.

I jumped on it.

And I laid the charm on thick. I didn’t bother trying to play the ing?nue; after the first few words (a desultory exchange of opinions and condemnations of lesser cars than hers) I’d deduced that she was experienced enough to know theatrics when she saw them. I was not going give her anything but the real thing. Her choice of clothing surprised me, too. It’s what I’d always dreamed of wearing when I hit my retirement years, or at any time my hair went completely white: crisp dark blue jeans, a button-down shirt with the long sleeves rolled to the elbows, and a cowboy hat. Okay, so she wasn’t wearing a hat. She had a brilliant blue scarf tied around her long hair, which was, gratifyingly enough, almost pure white. In short, she was beautiful.

Within the first five minutes of conversation, we were lounging companionably against her fender (the car’s fender), and I believe we’d both come to a mutual understanding. I wrote down my number, told her I’d love to see her in less than jeans, and strolled back to my car. I’m sure that my exit was undermined by my boring little Honda, but what the hell. Once, I too was cool, in my Mercury Sports Coupe, my cute little Kharmann Ghia, and my ’51 Chevy pickup. If she does call, I’m going to be scurrying to either fix up the pick-up, or buy my sweet ass a beautiful new car.

Age. It matters. A whole lot.

Technorati : bisexuality, cars, fifties, sex, sexblogs, vintage
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Ice Rocket : bisexuality, cars, fifties, sex, sexblogs, vintage

Me: A vegetarian who wears leather boots. Yoga in the morning and shots at night. Self-reliant, intelligent, easy-going, self-assured, capable, resourceful, forceful, competent, exacting, lazy on Sundays. I’m not looking for a relationship, and I’m not going to listen to you expound on “Why Women Don’t Like Nice Guys”.

You: Know the difference between “there”, “they’re” and “their”. Understand that “a lot” is comprised of two different words. Can pick your way through the intricacies of using “to”, “too”, and “two” in a sentence. Never use “U” except in “U-turn”, “U-boat”, or the like. Never say, “I’m a lesbian trapped in a man’s body.” You are none of the following: arrogant, unctuous, belligerent, egotistical, narcissistic, smarmy, complacent, or oleaginous.

I’m just looking to make friends and pleasant acquaintances right now, swap e-mail, chat, etcetera–not sexual encounters in a dark parking lot or any relationship that involves cuddling or swapping saliva. I don’t reply to all of my e-mails, and I don’t accept any under fifty characters in length. Frankly, I just can’t keep up with you all. And please don’t send me pictures of your cars, unless they’re muscle cars or hot rods and you intend to let me drive them. Otherwise, you’re just a tease. I do read all of my hate mail, however, and though I don’t reply, please be assured that I do chuckle at them. So keep it coming, boys!

Evidently, I’m a femi-grammar-nazi in a lot of people’s eyes. Can you imagine?

You know what’s coming. She does! She did! When we met, she stared at me with those wide eyes, as if she were frightened out of her wits. But with this big crazy smile. But being polite, I’m going to at least talk to her a bit before I tactfully tell her she’s not my type. I didn’t even get a chance. I bought her a drink, she hung all over me while keeping an obvious eye out to see if anyone was watching her smooze a woman. As soon as she started flirting with a guy I took off running. What a con-artist.