Where Did We Go? What Did We Buy?
Midget Chaps: $50. Set of Pretty Kitty Lee Press-on Claws: $7. Being too drunk to
remember buying any of it: Priceless.
by Ike Hill
Drunken purchases: 1.5 oz. key chain flask with engraved skull, $15
Black leather sword frog, $30
Ornate silver clad wine drinking horn, $45
Coyote pelt, $50
Wooden beer mug titled "California Laidback Mug," $65
Roughly five bottles of mead, $150 (plus tip)
Random missing cash, +/- $120
You know, it's the "weekend," or rather, the Monday morning following
"the weekend." The sun's deadly rays permeate the bathroom blinds and heat the
drool on the ceramic tiles into steam. Random bits of fur tickle and torment your face as
it gets entwined in the eight o'clock shadow carpeting your tongue. There's a sharp pain
in your backside. A knife? No. A knee from the warm body passed-out on top of you.
Painful, yes, but not as sharp as … oh my. There's a gray and black animal horn with
sharp silver edges sticking out of your pants.
Why and how did that happen?
Huzzah and Cheers for the 30th Annual Renaissance Festival in Kansas City!
Pirates and Pixies and Gypsies…oh shit.
You should know anytime bee excrement is mentioned during a weekend blackout that
those insane bastards trapped in time at the Renfest are at fault. Upon entering the
gates, it's clear you're out of place. Everything surrounding you is foreign and ever so
slightly wrong. Most of the men are dressed fancier than your mom at a Yani concert. Half
the men are sporting Yani's thick luxurious long curly hair. And the women, well they've
got cleavage alright. In about seven places. The rest of the details are a little sketchy.
The problem is, all of them are clearly far more loaded then you are. What did
that damn pirate say? What is that crazy wench screaming? Is she even speaking English? Is
she yelling at you? Why is she pulling a knife out? Are those filthy Scotsmen fighting?
Are those filthy Scotsmen? WAIT! That's your mom and Yani wrestling over a half eaten
turkey leg.
Yes, there is only one answer to all of your questions, "Drink please!"
And you do. Order a beer.
Then you see everyone drinking out of mugs. You don't want to be left out. Those
are kick ass. Buy a wooden mug. Order another beer and fill the mug. Plastic cup of mead
please! You can't drink it out of that Dixie cup. You need a silver encrusted drinking
horn like real Vikings used, damnit. It's only $80. That's because it's authentic.
And six or eight rounds later, it becomes a good idea and wise investment to get
that coyote pelt nailed to the wall. After all there are only three left.
Three or five rounds after that, you are talking like everyone else there. Your
costume is starting to take shape, if a drunken tourist with fur wrapped shoulders double
fisting two drinks and slurring profanities is a costume.
It's usually about this time you realize with a jolt of arrogance you're just as
good an "actor" as these people they PAY to do it. YOU, my friend, are a
character, and so you begin your ribaldry and jesty taunts with the throngs of public.
Join a show! Run up on stage and show you, too, can wield the Axe of Power with as much
grace and…oops. That wasn't pretty.
And finally comes the moment when you find out the King's Guard is really like the
police, and that they do have the right to escort you to the exit.
