Treasure hunt

Finally, we have Alison in some pictures.  For the most recent class, I had an extra person present - a sort of back-up tutor.  Her name was Katharina, and mostly, I had her taking pictures.

Later that day, when I was looking through them, I commented that this was the first time Alison had ever featured in the pictures, because usually she's the photographer.  Katharina said she felt that since Alison was also a part of the classes, then she should really be represented.  So now, for the first time in this blog, you can see her.  She's the blonde girl in this first three pictures. 

This group of of girls definitely seemed to have a busy weekend planned.  They were running about 45 minutes late, because they'd been participating in a treasure hunt and had lost track of time.  I asked Alison if she had any schedules to keep to, or any reasons to hurry off and told her that even if she had to leave early, I would still pay her - I'd simply get Katharina to step in on her behalf.  It didn't seem like the most professional thing to do, but under the circumstances, I thought the girls wouldn't mind.  The alternative, after all, would have been sticking to the original schedule and just giving them 15 minutes worth of the class.

Thankfully, that wasn't necessary, though.  None of us had any pressing need to take off and all of us were happy to give the girls the full hour, despite their late arrival.  And so, ultimately, everything went fairly smoothly.

I really like The Fiddler's Elbow as a venue.  With mirrors lining the walls, and huge windows dominating the room to let in plenty of natural light.  With warm colours everywhere, with plenty of floor space and lots of ways to create a decent focal point.  Tables, chairs, couches, armchairs, the whole lot.  I can't use this venue for all of my classes, but definitely the larger ones really work well here.

Last time we were at this venue, Alison and I made good use of a really cool armchair that was available.  We thought of using it again, but this time there were some really cool beanbags as well, so we used those instead.  Next time, there'll probably be something else that's really cool, just lying around.  It's always fun to improvise.

While the girls were settling down, I looked at a couple of their treasure hunt forms, to see what that event had been like.  Much more complex than I anticipated.  From what they had said, I had assumed it to be a scavenger hunt, but this involved finding statues, writing dates down, adding up the numbers and using the results to find the next step on the hunt.  I think they were divided up into groups of four or something like that, because one group was very amused that another group had spent an hour in a coffee shop in the midst of that competition.

I couldn't help wondering whether that hour could still have been spent productively - using mobile 'phones to find the answers to various clues, rather than finding the relevant statues.  But apparently that would have been cheating.

I'm thinking of adding a fresh twist to the "best picture" part of the class.  Right at the end, it becomes a little tricky to find one picture among all the others, so I've been picking out my favourites as we go along and setting them aside - then choosing from those.  The new twist would involve making that element a bit more "official".  Pick one picture each time, show it to everyone, set it aside and keep a sort of "scorecard".  The girl who wins each round will get two points and the girl who wins the final competition will get five points.  Perhaps I'll arbitrarily award other points to the other girls as we go along - for original comments or... just... whatever.  Or arbitrarily detract points for similar reasons.

One girl produced a picture that I really liked.  I held this one up, and showed it to everyone, then went to put it onto the pile with the other potential winners, then suddenly noticed that the artist hadn't been particularly generous with one particular component.  I held it up again, pointed out the offending element and told everybody that was the reason that picture was being disqualified.  Then I picked up another picture where the proportions were more flattering and told everyone that this new picture would take its place.

Finally, we got to the group picture part of the class.  Sadly, at this point, it never occurred to me that we could have invited Alison to be part of the group shot and have Katharina take the pictures.  Though I'm not sure if she'd have gone for it, to be honest.

We used the beanbags again - to create a couple of "tiers" this time.  I sat on one of them with two of the girls, while the rest stood behind us.  One of the girls sitting next to me got a bit "wavey" with her hands, which created an interesting moment.

At least she provided me with a bit of "modesty cover" for this final picture, though.

A filthy comment

Today's class didn't start out promisingly.  My tutor, Marta, got confused about the address of the venue she was expected at, but didn't query it with me until 2:10 PM - less than an hour before she was due to start.  But since I was already at The Standard, and since the 'phone reception there is very poor, I didn't know she had tried to get in touch until just before 3PM.

The girls arrived at 2:30 PM, but moved off to the side to do some activities of their own.  A series of - from what I could tell - ice-breakers, to set the mood.  At that point, I didn't know that Marta was having problems, so I was still waiting for her to arrive.  When I did finally find out, I had a word with the girl who had booked me and she was really cool about everything.  She wanted to wait until I had a tutor, so I tried to call Marta.  It was around about then that the barman taught me a trick.  He told me to put the 'phone inside a glass and it would get a signal - and the signal would last for a while, even after the 'phone was taken back out of the glass.  I thought he was having a laugh, but I tried it - and sure enough, suddenly a series of texts were coming through from Marta.  That's when I discovered she didn't know where she was going.

I spent half an hour trying to call her, text her clarify where she was, what she was doing, whether she was coming... and eventually gave up on her and started the class.  At that point I didn't know if she was going to turn up late, but I promised the girls I'd take their class right up to 5PM to make up for the late start.  By then, it was 3:30 PM.

Everything went great after that.  I've said before, that when the class actually starts, all the previous stresses just fade away.  Everything that has the potential to go wrong has either done so already, or has been fixed by that point, so there's nothing left to do but run with the limitations.  So I reassured the girls that I'd been doing the classes for three years and that I knew how to put forward all the drawing challenges and we got started.

There must be something Hitler-like about me, that I'm just not aware of.  As far as I can tell, when I look in the mirror, I don't have hair that's even remotely like his, but still... this is the second time that someone has drawn me with a Hitler haircut.  I can't remember when it happened before, but I know it did.  And on that occasion, everybody - unanimously - agreed that the artist had to take her picture back and add a moustache to it.

It happened again today, with the same result.  Strangely, though, the moustache that was added to the picture looked more like an Errol Flynn type of moustache than a Hitler one.  Sometimes this job gets pretty surreal.

The girls were all very happy to appear in my blog, so I got them to take pictures of my favourite drawing challenge - that one where I get groups of them to team up, divide the body up between them and draw it, then put the pictures together to see how they work.

Time passed really quickly.  Despite offering the girls extra time to make up for the late start, I was really surprised when I checked my 'phone and discovered it was almost 5PM and had to move quickly into the final drawing challenge.

For this one, I lay down on the floor and told the girls that they could each focus in on just one body part - whichever one they liked - and draw it quickly.  At the end, we would put them all together and try to create one massive body.  I did this challenge once before, in Aberfeldy, and it was fun back then, too.  Once it was done, I put them all together and found the picture had just two penises, but loads of feet.  Oh, and one set of knees - which was handy, because without those, there would have been a large blank space between the feet and the penises.

At the conclusion of the class, a couple of the girls asked me whether I really needed a tutor.  I told them that the classes always ran better when I had someone else around, but they kept insisting I didn't need one.  It's definitely better when there's someone else there, though.  Otherwise, the classes can too easily just turn into a naked bloke saying "Look at me."

I hate not having a tutor, though.  It feels less professional and at the end of the class, there's nobody to sit and have a drink and chill down with.  Nobody to enthuse with about how well it went, when we get a class as good and as cheerful as this one.

Still... it was a great day... and the drawings were fun, as usual.  One girl, though, looked incredibly innocent but still managed to write an absolutely filthy comment on her picture.  And I couldn't possibly repeat it here.

Sad face, smiley face

This was a smaller group, so Alison and I were able to guide the girls and group them a bit more - which meant we were able to use the huge, battered armchair that we'd spotted in the previous class.  I really loved it and really wanted to use it.  And with the fact that all the girls were viewing me from the same, general direction, it worked perfectly.

I took up position and waited for my cue, but it was different this time.  I hadn't been able to speak to any representatives of this group prior to the class, so wasn't able to find out how many people knew what to expect.  Turns out it was all of them, so while I was waiting for Alison to introduce me, they agreed on a different summons - and suddenly, they were all calling my name.  So I went through, and said "hello".  Wearing the red boxers, for the second time that day.

This was a loud, friendly and boisterous group that were bombarding me with questions right away.  It was a lot of fun, and I really enjoyed the rapid-fire, scattergun approach.  There were times when someone wouldn't wait for me to answer the first question, before throwing a second one at me, so I was glancing left and right, trying to work out who I should answer first at times.

And they weren't all questions I get asked too often, because groups often have a bit more reserve and don't want to seem rude.  But these were things like "are you gay?" and "do you ever get hard during these classes?"  I was really enjoying myself.

One of the girls came up to me for a photograph and seemed particularly amused and excited.  I don't think she expected to be able to get so close to the model at all and kept giggling really hard.  Then she suddenly shouted "penis!" and I nearly cracked up, myself.

The winning picture of this class was a masterpiece of simplicity.  Just two pairs of eyes and two mouths - making up one smiley face and one sad face.  It might sound rubbish, but it accurately summed up the entire pose in a very surreal way.  It couldn't not win the competition.

At the end of the class, the girls all went in different directions and agreed to meet up at their apartments in a couple of hours so they could all go home.  I think they were going back to London tonight.  I don't envy them.  Sounds like a long, long journey.

But before they left, they give Alison and I the remains (just over half) of a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc that they weren't able to finish.  And Alison had to hurry off to an event of her own while I was tidying up the room, so she let me have it.

I'm going to drink it now.

Rocky

This might well have been my biggest group yet.  I can't remember for sure, and would have to go through all my records to confirm it.  But 28 girls... that's a big group.

And so, today, we were in The Fiddler's Elbow.  Another really cool venue, with great ambience.  When I was researching it on the net a few weeks ago, someone described it as "shabby chic" and those words really seem to fit.

The room was huge, and so perfect for such a large group, but even despite that, it took some careful arranging of the furniture to get all the tables and chairs facing towards a single focal point.  There was a huge, battered looking chair that I really wanted to use as a prop, but for this first class (there were two classes today) it simply wasn't practical.

I was a bit concerned about the huge windows, at first.  They overlook Picardy Place and it felt like anyone could look in and be offended, but the barmaid assured me that they were tinted and nobody would see me unless I stood right up against them.  The glass door looking out onto the stair also made me a bit wary, but again she reassured me.  She said she would warn any passersby that there was nudity in the room and so if they looked in, then they'd know what to expect and wouldn't be shocked. That was enough for me, because I wasn't shy.  I just didn't want people complaining to the management.

The girls were lively and friendly.  There was a Rocky Horror theme going on over the weekend, so I was asked if I might happen to have a random pair of gold hot pants lying around.  I didn't have any and couldn't find any, so I compromised and wore a pair of red, shiny, satiny boxer shorts with gold dragons printed on them instead.

When the girls arrived, I hid (as usual) and waited for my cue (as usual) but this time, I cued up the reprise of I can make you a man and started that playing as I walked out.  I am a long way from being  muscular, so I felt that the intro (the enthusiastic calling out of muscle groups) was particularly funny.

The only person who didn't know what to expect this time was the bride, but I got the distinct impression that someone genuinely didn't expect me to get naked for this class.  There was a real cry of shock as I pulled off the boxers, and it definitely didn't come from some random passerby out on the stairs who just happened to witness that moment.

One girl asked me if I did any other modelling.  Before I could answer, she elaborated on her question and mentioned Kim Lawless as an example of my other modelling experiences.  I have modelled for Kim's class on mens' intimate waxing twice, now and it turned out that this girl had been one of her students.  I asked if she had waxed me personally (I couldn't remember her face) but she said she had brought along her own model, but still remembered me specifically.

I left it to someone else to ask if it was my face she had recognised.

Travel dramas

Sunday morning
11:32 AM
Aberfeldy

It's amazing just how many things can go wrong while one of my classes is being taken care of, while the class itself still runs well. Even as I write this, things are continuing to go awry. I should be well on my way back to Edinburgh, but I'm sitting in a pub, waiting for a toastie... and I'm cold. I'm guessing they don't think it's worthwhile lighting the fire until later in the day, when the pub gets busier. Right now, I'm sitting by last night's ashes, trying to drag some heat from them.

Yesterday, Vanessa and I left Edinburgh for Aberfeldy. And on our way, we were informed that various bits of information I'd been given had been wrong, that bad weather was bringing about schedule changes and that there was no way we'd get back into Edinburgh after our class had concluded. We got to Perth, boarded the second (late) bus for Aberfeldy and then Vanessa gave up and headed back for Edinburgh. I carried on.

Fair enough... the weather was pretty bad. I was sitting at the front on the top deck and at intermittent points, there was fairly heavy snow covering the window. It stopped for a while at some desolate place in the middle of nowhere, and for a tense few moments, I actually wondered whether we were definitely going to carry on.

We did carry on, though.  And we got into Aberfeldy at around 7PM, where I arranged for a taxi to take me to where the girls were waiting and settled down with a coke (no drinking before a job) to give myself time to chill out a bit. I knew where I was heading and I could start to relax. Except the bad weather was also playing havoc with my 'phone signals, and the girl who had booked me wanted to sneak me in quietly, so I was supposed to call her and let her know I was close.

Thankfully, Aberfeldy has a great taxi driver who couldn't do enough to help out. He let me use his 'phone, he parked discreetly nearby and he waited with my while the girl who had booked me came out and showed me in.

And that's where things went well. That's where the day became fun again.

I was shown into the room where the class was being held and I spoke to the three girls who were arranging the class. A few other people knew what was happening, but not all of them - and not the bride. So we discussed the approach, I made a couple of suggestions and then I stepped into a side corridor, stripped off and waited for my introduction.

The girls were all ushered into the main room and I listened in. The announcement was made that there was to be an art class (thus explaining the charcoal and sketchpads scattered throughout the room) but the tutor had been delayed due to the bad weather. And that was my cue to enter the room - naked and ready for my reception.

I was really starting to relax into it, now. The cool thing about these classes is that it doesn't matter how stressful the day is, leading up to that point - when the class is under way, it all becomes insignificant. At one point yesterday, after Vanessa had left, I couldn't imagine being able to enjoy the event, but suddenly it was fun all over again.

I went through my favourite challenges and introduced a new one at random. For the final challenge, I announced to the girls that everybody in the room had to pick out a body part and focus on that and then - when we were finished - we would put all the pictures together on the floor and see if we could construct an entire body. It was amazing - like a genetic experiment gone very wrong. Multiple torsos, half-hearted legs, three penises and I can't remember how many nipples - including one that was very lovingly detailed. I had to take a couple of heads from previous drawings to complete the outline, because nobody had shown any interest in that part.

One girl drew a picture of my head earlier and we got into a debate. I commented on how it looked familiar and some of the girls thought it looked like "a young John Major". I wasn't sure about that, though, so kept thinking about it - and kept looking at the mouth of the picture. Eventually, I recognised what I was seeing and said it looked like Walter from the TV series Fringe.

Later, when I was picking out my favourite picture, I held it up again. "John Major or Walter?" I asked. "John Major" was the general response. I discarded it - it wasn't going to win that competition if it was John Major.

The winner was a really cool, foreshortened picture of me from when I was lying on the ground. The challenge had been to draw a picture with just straight lines and this particular image was really abstract.

I hung around for a while, after the class was finished. Often, when it's all done, it's time to move on and let the girls have space to proceed with their other plans, but this time it seemed that nobody was in any real hurry. I lingered, talked to some of the girls and had a beer. Then I called for the taxi to pick me up again and take me back into town, where I got a room in the Breadalbane Hotel.

This morning, I got up, had breakfast and consulted the Traveline app on my iphone to find out the best bus service back into Edinburgh. 11:07AM, on Dunkeld Street, at at the Post Office was the clear instruction. I waited there and the bus driver sailed straight past me, without even attempting to slow down. And that's why I'm in this pub right now.

Sunday afternoon
2:52PM
Ballinluig

I waited in the pub for the 2:07PM (same location, according to Traveline) but at a nearby stop - a recognisable one, with a shelter and everything. When the driver picked me up, I first clarified that he'd been the previous driver, then confronted him about the fact that he'd ignored me. He was completely unrepentant. The gist of his defence was that he stopped only at official stops. The gist of mine was that the Traveline app on my 'phone described the location very clearly. Outside the Post Office on Dunkeld Street - which was where I had been waiting.

"Take it up with Traveline," he said.

I fully intend to.

Right now, I've got a further two hours to wait for a connecting bus in a little town called Ballinuig. I don't anticipate getting home before 7PM.

Sunday evening
7:13PM
Edinburgh

Home at last. And I'm deep down tired. I can't remember the last time I felt like this. I'm going to sleep well, tonight.

There was yet one more bit of drama to the day. The driver (that one from the previous instalment to this posting) dropped me in Ballinluig and gave me directions to the place where I could catch a connecting bus to Edinburgh - but didn't inform me that the connecting bus wouldn't stop there if I didn't book it first. It was due at 4:39PM, so I got there at 4:15PM because paranoia was settling in with some serious determination by this time. When I saw it approaching, I stuck my hand out and it sailed right on past. Fortunately, this driver was a lot more conscientious than the last one, so he stopped a bit down the road and waited while I ran up to him. It was him that explained that it should have been booked first.

If he hadn't stopped, I would have had to wait until 7:37PM for the next one. I'd have still been there, now. And I wouldn't have got home before 10PM.

Ultimately, it was a great class with a great group of girls, but it has been dramatically - and repeatedly - let down by an unreliable bus service, run by staff who (with one exception) have no sense of responsibility, compassion or job satisfaction. And ultimately, it's the class that I'm going to remember from this weekend. Always best to remember the highlights.

Sashes

I started getting nervous when the second class started to run a bit late.  As usual, all my old doubts and concerns started flooding forth - what if I got the time wrong, the date wrong, the venue wrong..?  In a few weeks, I'm going to start using a new venue as a sort of back-up option and suddenly I was nervous that I might have given the address of the new venue instead.

I think the class was about twenty minutes late in getting started, but by the time the girls arrived, I knew it wasn't my fault.  They had simply arrived late and were getting drinks.  I could see out the window, up to the ground level and I saw them all arriving, so was able to relax.

It was another fun class - and this time, the girls were from Aberdeen.  I hate to generalise, but that does often mean a bit more rowdy and a lot more like to ask personal questions.  One of them asked if I was particularly hairy... which, surprised me, since she could see everything there was to see.  It made me regret not having had the money to get waxed recently, though.

Another girl asked if I thought it might be a good idea to start hitting the gym.  A fairly valid point, I suppose.  I'm inclined to view myself as lean and athletic, but there are definitely people who would prefer to use the word "scrawny" instead.  Perhaps I really should join a gym and try to get a bit bulkier.

The girls all had sashes in the second group, and so I borrowed one of them and spent most of the class wearing it.  I had to remember to give it back, when the class concluded.

I made sure to warn the girls that they should conceal the sashes if they ended up drinking in the Grassmarket - which was their plan for later that evening.  Someone mentioned that there were pubs in that area that welcomed Hen and Stag parties.  This is true, but those pubs are off the edge of the Grassmarket and heading up to Lothian Road - and probably not the kind of places they'd want to visit.

When pressed for details, I told them that those pubs tended more towards small, seedy, strip clubs.  In fact, that area is generally known as Edinburgh's "Pubic Triangle".  It was an American girl who told me that.

Audience participation

My first class of the year was a great one. I couldn't have asked for a more cheerful, friendly and enthusiastic group. It was great fun.

One girl was particularly enthusiastic. Almost as soon as the class started, she wanted to get involved more actively and asked if she could join in any of the poses. With feedback and motivation like that, Alison and I hardly even need to work. The sheer energy of some people can carry a class along.

The volunteer told me to relax, reassured me that she was a lesbian and told me that I was quite safe from her. Then, when I adopted the first pose of the class (the "Brucey Bonus" - I need to get Alison to stop suggesting that one) she hurried up, ducked under one of my arms and got very close. Some innuendos were thrown around and when I glanced down, all I could see was the back of her head. I asked Alison if I should start feeling scared, yet. I don't know what kind of perspective everybody else had, but I know that my own perspective made everything seem very suggestive.



The volunteer (as I'll keep referring to her in this posting) told the group a few times that she would have absolutely no problem with joining in fully, if that was OK. And that included stripping down and posing right along with me. If enough people had said it was cool - effectively giving her "permission" to do so - then I genuinely believe she'd have gone through with it. In that sense, she was a lot like me. I'm always looking for a good enough excuse to get naked.



Two of the girls came down earlier than the others to introduce themselves and to bring in some prizes to be handed out.  A packet of jelly penises for the best picture and a booby prize for the worst - literally, a pair of plastic boobies.  That was another element of fun.  That's them being proudly worn in the very last picture.