A grower - not a shower

In which a comment in my feedback book sparks off a bit of ego shrinkage

It's a good job I'm not overly self-conscious about how big I am, or anything like that.  Like most men, there have been times in my past when I've looked down and thought "just one more inch would be perfect" but on the whole I've felt pretty comfortable with everything.  So I was surprised when I took a look at my feedback book and saw this comment -

That's right.  It's the one in the top left corner.  Now, there's a very blurry line between arrogant self-aggrandisement and modest self-promotion when it comes to penis size, but in my line of work it's probably a good idea to keep clear of that whole topic unless I'm trying to be flippant.  And flippancy is definitely one of my skills, anyway.  So I'll make my jokes and laugh at all the deformed penises that turn up in the various drawings I see in an average art class.  But still... that gave me a momentary pause.

Had I been underwhelming that day?  Had it been particularly cold in the room?  Or had the girl simply made a mistake and mixed up the words "grower" and "shower"?  If it was that last one, I hope she picks her words more carefully in the bedroom, or she might inadvertently create some sort of emotional meltdown with a future date.

Either way, despite the momentary self doubt I was more amused than anything else.  Yes, I admit it, despite everything, my ego was still fragile enough to take a slight dent.  But I'd hardly be writing about it - here of all places - if I had been genuinely bruised.

Anyway, this was my second time at the Piper Bar - though, sadly, I had to do this one without Ragna.  She was back in Germany visiting family.  Which was a shame, because I really enjoyed working with her the previous time.

Last time at this venue, I set up near the windows, but this time I thought it would be better to set up on the main floor.  There was much better lighting there, and more space to move around - a far more flexible location.

When the class started, one of the girls asked me if I worked out.  Now, I'm under no illusions about my general physique - I'm never going to win any body-builder competitions.  But I've been really been stepping up an exercise regime in the last few months, and the results are finally starting to show a bit, so that was a good ego-boost.  Albeit a temporary one - the "grower" setback hadn't happened yet.

One of the really fun drawing challenges that I regularly use is the Straight-Lines one.  This is the point where a lot of the girls suddenly start creating some really cool and artistic pictures, and then start getting a lot more confidence in their skills.  There's automatically a lot less focus on realism and a lot more focus on suggesting body parts or gestures or anatomical details.  It also gives me a perfect excuse for subtracting points from people on a very flimsy pretext.  If I see a hint of a curved line, I'll point it out, accuse the girl of cheating and penalise her.

As usual, there were the usual flatteringly large (enormous) close-up pictures.  Both of which were drawn during the traditional Make-A-Giant-Man pose.  And as usual, I took full advantage of standing with those very pictures and encouraging the artists to come up and pose with me, taking full credit for their works of art.  The "scrotum cupping" girl was a particular high point of that feature.

I have a few regular jokes at these events.  One of them is even starting to bore me, but it usually gets a laugh from the girls, because they haven't heard it a hundred times before.  But there's always a moment when I see someone happily drawing a penis close-up and I'll pretend to be a bit confused and say "My nose doesn't look like that."

This time, one of the girls liked the nose/penis comparison, and suggested that I tear a hole in the middle of a picture of my face and stick my penis through it.  A couple of the other girls enthusiastically agreed and so I went for it.  And once again - just as I was carefully trying to keep the damage to the picture to an absolute minimum, one of the bar staff walked into the room.  This was her second interruption, but it was definitely her more embarrassing one.  I think she went scarlet and hurried straight through without slowing down.  She may even have sped up.

All in all, though - despite the ego pounding - another fun class.

Spontaneously original creativity

This was my third booking at the Tron Tavern and was the liveliest one yet - probably the liveliest class I've ever had.  For a while, I was getting very nervous because the class was due to start at 3PM, but the group didn't turn up until just after 4PM.  I had to keep stepping outside to send text messages to the lead hen, because there's no 'phone reception in the sub-basement of the Tron.

I finally met the lead hen, just as I was leaving a message on her answering machine.  I was sitting on the steps of Hunter Square and saw a taxi pulling up, full of girls.  I walked over, introduced myself and reassured her that although she was running late, I was able to be flexible with the times and I could give her the full hour.  But she had her booking notes handy and she was adamant that she was early - that her class was scheduled to start at 4:30PM.

When we got set up downstairs, the girls started producing bottles and revealed that - once again - the agency had told them to bring their own drinks.  By this stage, though, I knew that once we were set up in the sub-basement the bar staff were not about to disturb us, so I let them drink their own alcohol.  I just made sure I cleaned up all the bottles and glasses and took them away with me when the class was done.

Not the best start to a class, and I made sure that the agency were notified about the details very shortly afterward.  And a week later, I got a call from a representative who told me that the drinks issue had been cleared up, but insisted that the class was definitely supposed to start at 3:30PM, so the original time was the correct one.  So ultimately, I was left unclear about where the scheduling mistake came from.  But still... it was better that I started an hour early, rather than an hour late.

Once we got underway, though, we had a great time.  The bride was the only person being kept in the dark for this specific event, so I was able to talk discreetly with all the other girls in advance.  One of them was very excited when she saw we were holding the event in the Tron Tavern.  Seems it's a favourite spot of hers.

The bride was led into the room blindfolded, but I recommended that she be taken down the stairs first, then have the blindfold put on.  And since everybody else already knew what to expect, it was suggested that I get naked from the outset.  That was another feature that the girls really appreciated.  Two of them bounded right up to me to pose for photographs as soon as they entered the room and saw me.  I knew right away that it wasn't going to be difficult to keep the enthusiasm high for this bunch of girls.

They had their own props, as well - a giant inflatable penis being the most prominent.  There's something about the average penis, I suppose.  When it swells up, it just demands attention.  Half its purpose must be purely to advertise its presence.  Which makes it a bit of a shame that this one was largely forgotten as the class progressed.  I had fully intended to pose with it at some point, but never quite got round to making full use of it.

The paper suggestions were more popular this time.  I passed round the previous suggestions - the ones from the class in Inverness - and got the girls to read those out, so they could get an idea of how things had gone.  I figured that would act as a good ice-breaker, by giving them an idea of how to proceed with the concept and - hopefully - some thoughts of their own.  It was definitely a bit more successful than the previous attempt.  But a lot of the suggestions were either wildly unrealistic or just downright impossible.

My favourite photo opportunity came right at the end of the class.  One of the girls must have knocked over a tray of coloured chalks, so when I was cleaning up after everybody had gone, I saw the mess she had left behind.  I thought it looked surprisingly beautiful.  If I'd seen it earlier, I might have awarded her some bonus points, for... I don't know... spontaneously original creativity, or something.

Or I might just as easily have subtracted points for wasting good chalk.

Paddington Bear

I was in the shower on the morning of this class, when one of the girls called me up to make sure everything was cool with the booking.  I hadn't anticipated the call at all, so was completely unprepared for it and must have sounded very unprofessional.  I had to jump out the shower, grab a towel and dry off my ear before I answered the mobile - and then had to dredge up the basic details from memory, because I didn't have my notes in front of me.  Just time and venue, luckily - which even my terrible memory was capable of recalling.  But I must have sounded completely vacant and couldn't have inspired the girls with confidence.  I did manage to categorically confirm that everything was on schedule, though.

Showered... shaved... dressed (temporarily, at least)... case packed and on my way.  But the main problem with the Tron Tavern is that the classes are held in the basement.  Not just the floor immediately below the ground floor - but a floor below that one.  So... a sub-basement level.  Which means there is virtually no 'phone reception.  In fact, I was surprised when - halfway through this class - one of the girls got a text message.  Some stray signal must have randomly found its way down all those steps and round all those corners.

Anyway, as always, I arrived early to give myself plenty of time to set up for the class.  Then, when everything was prepared, I went back upstairs, stepped outside the pub and sat on Hunter Square to get a signal, then texted the group to let them know everything was prepared and ready for them.  While I was sitting on the steps, looking over at the pub, I saw the girls arriving.  It gives me no real advantage, but it's still fun to see them and maybe get an initial impression of the personalities.

Sometimes I get halfway through one of these classes and I already know which picture is going to be my ultimate favourite one.  I still keep an open mind, because there might be another in the next drawing challenge that's even better, but I know it's going to have to go some way to beat the one I've already noted.

This time, the picture reminded me of a naked Paddington Bear.  It's the hat that did it.  Actually, it's only the hat.  Absolutely nothing else makes me think of Paddington, but the hat pretty much covers it all.

The rest of the picture is pretty cool, too.  I like the facial expression.  And I kind of like the tie, too - even though it does remind me, very slightly, of a cravat.  And let's face it... since the '60s, no straight man has ever worn a cravat without a sense of irony being involved.

The rest of the class was pretty cool, too.  The girls really took to the concept straight away.  I think it helps a lot, when there's no sense of surprise going on.  It's fun to introduce the idea to the girls.  Or to walk off-stage fully clothed, pretending to look for a prop, then walk back on again, completely naked and pretend there's nothing unusual.  The play-acting is always fun.

But it's easier if they know what's going to happen, because they're already relaxing into the concept.  They already know that their drawing skills aren't going to be great, so they're ready to be funny rather than accurate.  If it's a surprise, I think the first couple of poses are difficult for the girls, because they haven't yet come to terms with the fact that artistic merit isn't a requirement.

These girls were going to a spa, after this class was done.  I was very jealous.  I really wanted to go along, too.  I told them that I'd spent years being a massage therapist and had never once been to a spa.  I'd kind of forgotten about a time in Baden Baden, though.  I visited a spa there, once, and have wanted to go back ever since.

The third drawing challenge in most of my classes, these days, is the one where I ask for two volunteers and apply roles to them - of co-model and co-ordinator.  This time I got three volunteers and two of them were co-models.  So the co-ordinator posed us with my hands on the shoulders of one of them and with the other standing behind me - holding the Dalek, I think.  I was blindfolded, so couldn't tell for sure.  But going by one of the drawings, it looks like that's what she's holding.

I normally introduce the role-reversal concept during this pose.  I tell my co-model that she can start plotting her revenge on the co-ordinator - especially if the pose is one of those slightly cruel ones.  That wasn't an option this time, though, because the co-ordinator definitely did not want to be a co-model.  The girls were mostly professionals who had careers that could potentially be damaged if any of the pictures became public, so they were being careful about what they volunteered for.

After that, I was asked to do a lying down pose.  I was cool with that, although it was a tiled - and cold - floor that I would have been lying on, which would have required a bit of recovery time.  A shock of cold until my body heat warmed up the floor.  I was prepared for it, but then one of the girls suggested I line up some stools and lie across them.  She got a bonus point for that.  And that pose gave me my biggest problem in picking a winner for the challenge.  There were three truly great pictures that time, so I named them all and put them to the applause-o-meter.

I called them "Gummy", "Flattery" and "Creepy, freaky corpse-faced guy".  Or something along those lines.  I can't remember the exact names.

At my last event - in Inverness a couple of weeks ago - I introduced a new concept to the classes.  I passed round torn-up sheets of paper and got the girls to make suggestions for the kind of content they hoped for in the class.  Anonymous suggestions, things like that.  One of them wrote this -

It was a request I've never had before, so I went for it.  And once again, the winner of that challenge managed to achieve her victory through flattery.  It's amazing how far girls can get, if they just exaggerate the size of a man's penis.

One of the girls left the room at this point.  We were just building up to the Make-A-Giant-Man pose, so I waited for her to come back before I introduced it.  And while I was waiting, I got one of the other girls to take some pictures of me posing with the various winning drawings.  I don't think I came off too well.  I was really enjoying myself, but you wouldn't think so, judging from the miserable expression I have in these pictures.  Face like a slapped arse.

And finally, the Make-A-Giant-Man pose.  Unusually, there was just one penis this time.  Often there's about three or four.  It still looked like a genetic mutant, though.  It always does.

I did like the big smile, though.  I had to pose with that one.  Made a contrast from the apparent misery in the previous ones.  When I stood up, one of the girls noted that I had charcoal on my bum.  I must have rested on a piece of it, while I was lying on the floor.

It was another great class.  And before I finish this posting - here are a couple of the suggestions I didn't get round to using...