at Burningman when a small group of us went out for the night to check out this new place Xara’s. From what we’d heard, it was going to be a bumpin club with live grass.
I know what you’re asking yourself, “Live grass? What’s the big deal?” Well, you have to understand that the playa is the antithesis to water. Bacteria doesn’t live out there, let alone anything that might resemble a plant. The entire week, the only moisture your feet might see is a shower, if you’re lucky, the water truck, which was daily, at the very least, or if you busted out the baby wipes and wiped them down. So being able to take off your shoes and walk on live, wet grass was enough to make us all plan on goign to this one place the night it opened, which was Wednesday.
The 4 of us got to the structure, which, unlike most of the typical structures out there, was not a geodesic dome. It was made from piping, wood, and lots of tarp. When you entered, straight ahead was a dancing area, to the left and right there were rest areas where, lo and behold, there was live grass. The atmosphere was dark, and very green. They played on the fact that there was some green element and made the entire club jungle themed, both in decor and in music (I don’t mean monkey sounds).
Shoes came off, and we went straight for the grass. It was everything I had hoped and more. Being able to wiggle my toes in something besides sweaty socks or playa dust was very much appreciated. My mantra at Burningman is typically in not sticking with the group. My belief behind this is that if you go with the group, all of your stories will be the same, as will be your experiences. My Burningman stories are my own, as are my experiences.
That being said, I split from the group, and walked around a bit. I am not against jungle music, but I can’t really dance to it, so I kept walking. In my walking about, I noticed a pair of people walk into a dark corner, duck down, then disappear. I understand the fate of a curious cat, but I hadn’t seen a cat in at least 4 days, so of course I investigated. There were tarps overhead, making a pseudo curtain which you could easily get past. Once past said curtains, there was a small tunnel to climb through directly to the right. From this tunnel, I could see a faint red light. When surrounded by darkness, and neon green lights, red sticks out like a sore thumb. It also further instills feelings of curiousity. Down I crouched, and through I climbed.
On the other side was a square room, about 20 feet square. The walls were about 2 1/2 feet tall all around, with a tarp acting like a circus tent, being held up by a 4×4 about 10 feet tall in the center. The walls were lined with tin foil, with red lights scattered about. On the floor were dozens and dozens of pillows, scattered about. On these pillows were about 6 pairs of people having sex.
Let’s get this back into perspective, shall we? I was not sober, and I think this really is a very important detail, as my perception of reality was slightly skewed as a result. The entire atmosphere at Burningman is that of creativity, discovery, self expression, love, art, and bliss, so I was used to seeing new things, and being amazed every time I turned the corner. This corner, however, threw me for a loop (no pun intended). I crawled into the room a few feet in utter amazement, trying not to look at anyone too long. I was only in there for a minute or two when I noticed some guy touching himself. This is what we call an exit queue.
Just goes to show you, some things that are hidden are hidden for a reason. And that reason is usually dirty old men that want to touch themselves.