Ren Faire Horrors

[BMichaelKrol]

All right, due to popular request in another thread, I'm going to share some of the horrors I've seen in the 20 or so years I've been a performer at the Arizona and California Renaissance Festivals.


The first installment....



1. Showers.
Here's the thing about the showers at the Ren Faire: after a day working in the hot sun, you need a good shower, so no matter what it looks like, you take one. Men can sometimes get away with going a day or so without a shower, depending on the costume. However, women's costumes are so layered and restrictive if stuff doesn't get cleaned out daily, things could get ugly. Like swamp-ass ugly. Of course, to be fair, larger men in royal costumes have the same problem too.

So, back to the showers. Each fair has its own management so at different faires there's different facilities. For instance, at that Southern California fair, they used to bring out shower trailers. These were purpose built trailers with three shower stalls in them and were fairly okay for what they were. You didn't feel completely violated going into them. The current fair at the Northern California faire doesn't currently have any shower facilities. That, my friends, gets nasty.
But what's worse than no shower facilities are the old shower facilities at the AZ Ren Faire. I started working there in 1990, the second year the fair was open. I have a friend that is still doing fair out there and he says the showers are in the same building as when I worked out there. I don't think they've gotten better with age.

Continued...

[BMichaelKrol]

The Showers, Part 2

The shower facilities in AZ are in one building with a side dedicated to each sex, i.e., men on one side, women on the other. Originally, there were four stalls made out of cheap plastic. My second year there, they took out the fourth stall and put in a flush toilet that was always clogged. The bottoms of the plastic stalls started breaking, so pools of stagnant water would form in large cracks by your feet. Stagnant water that drained off the bodies of people with questionable hygiene.
The shower curtains were stolen/trashed so water was flying everywhere and pooled on the shower house floor. The shower house floor that had no drain in it and a constantly clogged flush toilet. That water got ankle deep some days.

Now, think about it. You work at the fair, it gets into the 90s/100s some days out there (it also gets down to the 40s and 50s and rainy, but that's another issue), you're hot, you're tired, and all you want it is a shower. You trudge to this lean-to and open the door. You get hit in the face with smelly steam, stinky, overweight bodies hanging around, a clogged overflowing toilet and three inches of stagnant water, which may or may not be swimming with staph infection. You're standing there, deciding whether or not risk possible infection and loss of limb, when some fat old bear screams at you to close the door. So I ask you, what would you do? Me, I just closed the door and decided to deal with my unique stink. But that's just me.

It gets even worse, when you consider the fact that people screw in those showers. But I'll leave those details to the sex installment...

[Matt]

there's no way that I would have used those showers either. GROSS.

[Nathan]

Yeah, fuck that shit!

[Shit Dickface]

NOW FOR THE SEX!

[Matt]

NOW FOR THE SEX!

Yeah, fuck that shit!

Nathan already answered it for you. They fuck shit.

[Ed Hocken]

Nice work, Matt. That just made Jake EVEN HORNIER!

[BMichaelKrol]

2. Alcohol, A. The Ballad of Mongo

Okay, so when I was 17 (it was a very good year), there was a flood of SCA types into the AZ Ren Faire. Most civilians don't know this, but there's a fair amount of animosity between the SCA and the Rennies. I have no idea why there's a feud, but I'm sure the reason is stupid. I never really got it, but that didn't stop me from joining in the hate. I just went with the crowd and fell in with my tribe. It was just like Munich in '39, man!

Anyway, there was this dork who called himself Mongo. He probably told me his real name, but I forgot it. Besides the event that I'm going to tell you about, he really wasn't memorable.

Mongo, hung out with the front gate crew. That's the crew that takes attendance and ticket stubs. They were really clique-y and hung out with each other in various trailers, including one which we used to call the Playboy mansion. More on that in a future installment.

[BMichaelKrol]

2. Alcohol, A. The Ballad of Mongo Part 2

As you might have guessed, the last weekend is usually the wildest. All sorts of substances are ingested, people hook up, and goodbyes are given. It's sort of like a combination of Animal House and the last episode of M*A*S*H. Well, the last Saturday night I was sleeping in my tent (alone) and Mongo and his crowd were sitting around a nearby campfire talking loudly.

I was in my tent, doing a slow burn, listening to Mongo and his crew become drunken idiots. Suddenly, I heard Mongo's deep scratchy voice say, "Mongo like Southern Comfort and Cheetos." This annoyed me. I was around that clown Mongo for the entire run of fair and I had enough of his nonsense.
That was the last straw. I yelled an epithet at Mongo, insinuating that Mongo prefers the company of men, and told him to shut the fuck up. We yelled back and forth, exchanging insults, when finally security came by and told them to shut up. All was well. I fell into a deep sleep.


The next morning I woke up and got out of my tent. Across the way, I saw Mongo, wearing a white, fluffy Ren Faire pirate shirt and steadying himself over a trash can. There was a wide orange stain that started up at his collar and went all the way down his shirt. Upon seeing me he sneered and I started laughing. His crew were shaking their fists and swearing oaths at him. I could barely stand up I was laughing so hard.

[BMichaelKrol]

2. Alcohol, A. The Ballad of Mongo Part 3

But seeing my enemy covered in orange puke wasn't the best part. Oh no. As Mongo upchucked again, I saw some of his crew pulling out stained foam mattresses. Normally tan, these mattresses were now covered, stem to stern, in thick, goopy orange liquid.


Mongo eventually got control of himself and went to go take a shower and get cleaned up. While he was gone, I got ready and went over to his campsite to get the dirt. Apparently, around 2:00 AM, Mongo started projectile vomiting all over the trailer. This one guy, Carl I think, got the worst of it. He looked like Bill Murray in Ghostbusters after being slimed. I didn't have the guts to look inside, but from what I was told, there was stuff all over the walls. And, to make matters worse, I also heard that Mongo might have had a double blow-out. But that was never confirmed. Mostly cause I wanted to drop the subject as soon as I heard about it.


That was Mongo's first and last year at the Faire.

[Timothy225]

Great fuckin' story, dude! Loved the ending - sounds like karma got him and got him good for his drunken assholery.

MOAR STORIES PLEEZ!

[BillyG]

However, women's costumes are so layered and restrictive if stuff doesn't get cleaned out daily, things could get ugly.

The Blue Waffle demands sacrifice.

[Matt]

I'm just going to second the comment regarding the last weekend of the Ren Fest. As I mentioned in the other thread, I knew a few festies and they all claimed that the Saturday night party on the final weekend is beyond epic...real 'end of the world' type shit. If possible, I always try and go to the Ren Fest on the final Sunday just to watch all of the really, REALLY hung over festies trying to do their routines...it's pretty good comedy.

[Abraham Smashington]

ALL HAIL THE BLUE WAFFLE

[Chris Miller]

*hurk*