Caleb showed me pictures of the RV on his phone. We meet up with it on Saturday just outside of Reno, transfer our luggage and drive to Black Rock City. The food and drinks will be loaded before we arrive. I already signed off on the list and he had it stocked.
So today he asked me to model my outfits for him and I refused. It's a surprise, I grin. A big, nervous goofy grin because I'm the outlier here. I've never been to Burning Man, I've never travelled with this group to something like this event and it's intimidating but at the same time I grew up in the circus so this seems like just the place for me. Maybe just with more performers.
They have bets placed on how badly I'll hate it. They have bets placed on when I will ask to leave and bets placed on how quickly I will make friends.
They have rules, plans and code words for that moment. None of which they have shared with me but I'm sure of it because that's what they do.
I modeled my outfits for August instead. He's the seasoned burner, he knows what works and what won't. He knows what will be incredible and what's going to hurt. He knows me well enough to know what I can actually manage and what's a dream.
Oh my God, he laughed when I came out in the first outfit. That's perfect. Let me look. He twirls me around, my hand high up to reach his. Tiny Dancer, indeed. He nods. You've done your research.
(Every single outfit features tall platform sealed boots and thigh-high socks. And a filter mask. But they're decorated to match. Every outfit also features LED lights and pompoms because I plan to go big, then go home and burn everything anyway.)
So, they're good?
They're great. I think we need to up ours now.
Add pom-poms!
Okay, he laughs. Then he stops. Caleb see these?
No, I told him he has to wait.
He's going to die when he sees you.
This was his idea.
I recall you gave him an ultimatum.
Okay, it was my idea.
Right. See?
We go over our packing lists. August forgot his beloved tea and I have to add more baby wipes, because he said I'll go through thousands of them.
Do you think I'll make it to the end?
I hope you do. It's the best part.
That's my plan.
If you don't, it's okay too.
I'm pretty sure this is a once in a lifetime thing, so I'd like to finish it proper.
I'll do everything I can to see that you do that, Bridge. You've worked hard to get ready and I know how badly you want this. Knowing what I know of your early adult years I imagine you'll fit in so well.
Hope you're right.
I don't think I could be wrong about this. You're exactly the type of person who makes Burning Man what it is.
I don't have the self-reliance part down, at all. We're going in the nicest RV I've ever seen.
You've got the nudity down though.
Well, yeah. You should always overcompensate any way you can, right?
So today he asked me to model my outfits for him and I refused. It's a surprise, I grin. A big, nervous goofy grin because I'm the outlier here. I've never been to Burning Man, I've never travelled with this group to something like this event and it's intimidating but at the same time I grew up in the circus so this seems like just the place for me. Maybe just with more performers.
They have bets placed on how badly I'll hate it. They have bets placed on when I will ask to leave and bets placed on how quickly I will make friends.
They have rules, plans and code words for that moment. None of which they have shared with me but I'm sure of it because that's what they do.
I modeled my outfits for August instead. He's the seasoned burner, he knows what works and what won't. He knows what will be incredible and what's going to hurt. He knows me well enough to know what I can actually manage and what's a dream.
Oh my God, he laughed when I came out in the first outfit. That's perfect. Let me look. He twirls me around, my hand high up to reach his. Tiny Dancer, indeed. He nods. You've done your research.
(Every single outfit features tall platform sealed boots and thigh-high socks. And a filter mask. But they're decorated to match. Every outfit also features LED lights and pompoms because I plan to go big, then go home and burn everything anyway.)
So, they're good?
They're great. I think we need to up ours now.
Add pom-poms!
Okay, he laughs. Then he stops. Caleb see these?
No, I told him he has to wait.
He's going to die when he sees you.
This was his idea.
I recall you gave him an ultimatum.
Okay, it was my idea.
Right. See?
We go over our packing lists. August forgot his beloved tea and I have to add more baby wipes, because he said I'll go through thousands of them.
Do you think I'll make it to the end?
I hope you do. It's the best part.
That's my plan.
If you don't, it's okay too.
I'm pretty sure this is a once in a lifetime thing, so I'd like to finish it proper.
I'll do everything I can to see that you do that, Bridge. You've worked hard to get ready and I know how badly you want this. Knowing what I know of your early adult years I imagine you'll fit in so well.
Hope you're right.
I don't think I could be wrong about this. You're exactly the type of person who makes Burning Man what it is.
I don't have the self-reliance part down, at all. We're going in the nicest RV I've ever seen.
You've got the nudity down though.
Well, yeah. You should always overcompensate any way you can, right?