The convention was a kick.

It's a cool feeling to know that everyone around you is either a porn fan or entrenched in the adult industry.

You had dealers of dildos.
Purveyors of penis pumps.
And all sorts of sellers of sin.

The majority of booths were video distributors. Each one had a line of men in front waiting for a signature from that companies "contract girl." Like most conventions, many of the booths had their products being demo'd on huge monitors. But unlike the impressive graphics of a Macromedia shockwave demonstration, these screens were filled with carnal close-ups.

So you'd be getting a smile and signature from a silicone enhanced beauty, while 4 feet above her head is her recorded image on a video tape, taking yards of phallic glory into every orifice.

Kinda surreal. But beautiful, too.

In this environment, ground zero for sexual openness was WAY higher than normal. You might end up in a conversation about using enemas before anal sex and not even realize when the conversation turned to sex. And when was the last time you *had* an enema conversation that wasn't surrounded by medical panic or laughter?

A beautiful kind of surrealism.