Spanks for Comin' In

A gay day on the town, jaunting from haunt to gay haunt, K8 and Kate did Austin. Or … Austin did us?

First, a sammich from the very lady- and family-friendly Lavaca Street Deli. The dee-lish French bread's big enough for leftovers, and the mood is peaceful, even among a Downtown lunch rush. (Lucinda Williams on the box: always a nerve-calmer.)

Then, we went to Lobo, Austin's Planet Gay (with a capital G, as in rainbow everything, boy panties, shirts that say "Catcher," lezzie fashion, DVDs, and edumacational models) store in a strip mall on Guadalupe in the middle of Hyde Park. Just the funniest place for it, we think.

Especially after we went in, and the chick behind the counter, named Bell, a femme fatale with intricately detailed eye make-up and little inhibition, asks, "You wanna spankin'?" And that's the first thing she asks. Not, "Can I help you find something?"

Messer demurred. But I say, "Yeah. Why not?" thinking, I'll call her bluff with my bluff. No bluff.

"You got a wallet in yer back pocket? Yeah, take that out."

So there I am, with two hands on the glass case filled with rainbow jewelry, and Bell starts patting me down with her leather wand, first softly down my legs; then up, harder; then my butt, patting it, not painful but harder still; and it starts to get hot. It was only then when – and perhaps this was my imagination – the wand seemed to creep around to the tingly parts, and I realize, "Hey! I'm in the middle of a store. I'm in front of Messer, and I'm getting that feeeeeeeling down there." Better stop. [Hey, don't stop on my account. – Editor.]

But yeah, so, go to Lobo. They spank.