Thursday, March 09, 2006


The search to find a decent man in Manhattan can lead one to some strange places. The other night a friend asked me to a party called “Foot Friends.” And yes, the party is just what you think it is - folks who like feet. Now personally, I find nothing attractive about feet whatsoever, but since I did meet a former amour at an S&M party, I decided to give it go. Plus, we were on the guest list, so it wouldn’t cost a penny.

The party was at page six staple Serena’s. (I guess Monday’s are celebrity slow for ol’ Serena’s, so she lets the foot freaks in.) At the door, we were told the foot folks were being joined by “Touch”, a party for those into massage. A foot and massage party...only in NYC, darlings.

Once inside, I sauntered up to the bar for my usual Black Bitch – vodka and diet coke – for some social lubrication. The bar was filled with professional massage tables and moaning men on them. On the couches and chairs were groups of men licking and massaging feet. Trying to put my best foot forward (no pun intended), I looked around the room for a potential poke. Nothing caught my eye, so I sat down on one of the plush sofas and listened to Nina Simone croon Feelin Good.

I was about to tell my buddy good night and good luck when a rather portly man sat down across from me. He asked if I was a college student – yes, the bar was dark. Going along with the Chanel fantasy, I told him I was a graduate student. And yes, flattery got him my feet. For over 60 minutes this man massaged and caressed my bare feet until I dosed off from the bliss. When I woke up, there were two other men massaging my legs and feet. Who knew that in only two hours I would become a foot whore?

When the men were through, my rather astonished buddy said he had no idea I was a foot top. A foot top? Who knew? I couldn’t even get my boyfriends to massage my feet for five minutes, let alone a full hour. This foot top thing was starting to look pretty good.

Ten minutes later I threw caution – and my clothes – to the wind and I was up on a massage table. My somewhat young and gymed body proved quite the attraction and I was massaged for over 90 minutes.

All in all it was a good night. I didn’t find anyone to date, but I had a few drinks, received a fabulous foot and body massage - and it didn’t cost me a dime. Since I don’t have any interest in feet, I don’t think it would be fair to lead these men on, but you never know. After all, this is NYC and anything goes.


Anonymous said...

dear you are crazier than ever! Manhattan just gets wierder and wierder..........come to milan! i have my place now! xo

junebug said...

Hey.....I never told you, and you probably don't wanna hear it from a middle-aged hag, but I'm into that, too. (receiver; not giver).

Anonymous said...

"My somewhat young... ". Compared to whom or what....? Joan rivers?, Dirt?

Love Ya Darlink,
Yade, Ya Yade