Glamping, Clamping, Bedding, & Pre-Wedding Planning
Note: The descriptions and accounts in these stories are fictional and do not portray any actual people or events.
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The van ride from the Strathclyde campus to our "glamping venue" was relatively routine, except for several releases and non-disclosure forms they had everybody sign. I was seated near several people who knew each other, but not me, so I listened to but did not participate in their conversations. I did observe as many of my fellow travelers as possible and could not help doing a little Suzie signal snooping along the way. My initial visual census of the group was 80% male and 20% female (with some error bars for "Pats"), but my "Suzie Survey" yielded a different result: roughly a 50/50 split between those that were sending for males and those who were sending for females, with a plurality doing both. Interesting crowd.
When we exited the buses near those rustic cottages, we found tables set up not unlike the freshman orientation display greeting me when I arrived and the ESU campus last fall. We stood in small alphabetized lines and queued up for some fancy embroidered badges with neodymium magnet clips. They featured the logo of one of Jeremy Mignot's larger and more successful startups, and declared the recipient's name clearly in the center, and were festooned with a bunch of colored symbols around the edges. A sign went up announcing that dinner would be served in 45 minutes, and waiters began circulating with iced craft beers with unfamiliar (to me) names like "Old Norway" and "Big Raspberry Dog Chew". I suppose in Austin it would have been "Black Metal Imperial Stout" and "Convict Hill Oatmeal". I never liked beer, so it didn't really matter. Luckily each serving tray had some "Highland Spring Sparkling Water" that was very much to my taste.
I thought perhaps that the symbols on the name tags were a variant of one of the corporate meeting ice breakers my Dad had often mentioned. The colored dots represented different interests, like blue for fishing and green for gardening, and in the process of questioning other folks about their badges the attendees got familiar with each other and began conversing. But these were not simple dots - there was a wide variety of shapes and colors, from a purple unicorn looking thing, to a black square, a green circle, and several others. Dungeons and Dragons enthusiasts, or vegan diets, or what? Then I spotted a pink triangle on one guy's badge. Sexual orientation? But what the hell did all those symbols stand for? There must have been more than a dozen different ones.
I looked a little closer and found that they all seemed to be variations on and combinations of the 'traditional' symbols for man and woman. I had just begun to look even more closely at other people's badges without being too obvious about it when a very hot woman in her 30's grabbed a microphone and instantly commanded everyone's attention. She was dressed in a form fitting grey set of velour overalls, and she was beyond gorgeous.
"If you will look at the lower left of your name tag, you will see a number printed in red. That is the table you should find and take your seat. Dinner is served."
I glanced down at my badge and learned I should find table #4. It looked like there were 20 or so tables set up on the central patio near all the cottages. Suddenly the hot woman took me by the hand.
"Hello Robbie. I'm Glennis Howries, Jeremy's primary administrative assistant. Jeremy couldn't be here, but he wanted me to introduce you to a few people."
If you hold my hand, sweetness, I will follow you anywhere. But maybe she can help me understand something.
"OK. What can you tell me about the meaning of all the symbols on the badges?"
She smiled. One of those smiles that said she was a very hot woman who knew things I did not.
"As a matter of fact, the first presentation tonight, which will begin just after dinner, will introduce you to those. And the last presentation of the night will perhaps allow you to become, more, ah..., intimately familiar with them."
We arrived at table #4, and Glennis began to introduce me to a seemingly infinite series of very academic looking bespectacled boffins, with trendy titles, associated with trendy corporate names with no vowels in them. I had little chance of remembering any of them. This meeting had another feature in common with many of the sales meetings my Dad had complained about: an awful box lunch masquerading as a decent dinner.
Oh, it was trendy, all right. The box was made of beautiful green recycled cardboard, with all sorts of environmentally correct messages and art work. But inside was a culinary crime of massive proportions. Vegan haggis had top billing. I haven't lost that much touch with my Scottish roots. I suppose it was tofu based, or perhaps "textured vegetable protein" was used, but in any case, it was awful. At least the oatmeal in it seemed real. My grandfather made haggis once a year in Texas, but that was sort of modified thick menudo made with calf liver, lungs and heart rather than beef intestines or sheep offal. I now understood the physiology underlying my taste for the South Texas dish of calf brains and scrambled eggs that so perfectly supplied myelin precursors for my still developing Suzie signal receiving array, and grandfather's haggis has some of the same cholesterol rich stuff, I suppose. My table mates tried to present an optimistic picture, saying these were much better than the usual 'munchy boxes'. There was some sort of thick and buttery shortbread, thank goodness, which would keep my Suzie receiver tuned for a while, and some sort of fudge called 'tablet' which also supplied some much-needed glucose. I knew I could at least survive until morning. I went back to trying the decipher the symbols on the badges.
Another hot woman approached the centrally located lectern and tapped the microphone for attention. She certainly had my attention. She was tall and thin, but with exaggeratedly full breasts and buttocks. More like someone's cartoon waifu than a real girl. Very delicate almost elfin features with jet black hair and flashing smart girl light grey eyes with violet highlights. I was riveted by her appearance and torn between wanting to tenderly protect her delicate face, and roughly fuck it. I think that was just the effect she was going for.
She had everyone's attention now. "Good evening. I'm Fancy Drathars."
The guy behind me snorted. "That can't be her real name, but it certainly fits!"
I was about to ask why when Fancy launched into her presentation.
"Some of you may, by now, have hit upon the possible meaning of the symbols on your badges. I wish we had time to let you interact with each other to try to decipher them all. I could probably get another dissertation out of observing that process. But for now, and in the interest of saving time, I will try to jumpstart your understanding."