QAF set sale aka Thyme and Sabina's Excellent Adventure!

My Dear Tribe and QAF lovers:

As I sit here in the lovely Holiday Inn of Washington/Dulles at 7:30AM, awaiting my breakfast, my first meal since my arrival to the Holiday Inn this morning at 1:30AM, (and the wonderful breakfast burrito from the gas station across the street; the only thing open at that hour and prior to that the lunch Thyme and I shared before bringing me to the airport); I felt compelled to record the events of the past couple of days. So pull up a chair, relax, get a cup of tea, hot chocolate, Beam and let me entertain you with our exploits.

I must credit the beginning of this story to my mentor into QAF fanfic, Gina aka Toploft69.

Our adventure started as an innocent email received by me about a week or two prior to the sale. Simply put, Gina wanted to know if I was going to attend the set sale.

Set Sale? I replied, what set sale? Gina then emailed me the link that informed me of the date, time and locale of said sale.

Toronto?!

My first thoughts were of Thyme, my tax return and Expedia.com. Feverishly, the emails flew. Do I dare go to Toronto? Thyme says she has a spare bedroom. In between chapters of our latest collaboration, my flight was confirmed. I was ready to fly to Toronto, to meet with our Thyme, her high exaltedness and perchance take home a piece of history, a QAF token, memorabilia, a condom. Anything that represents my love and devotion to the show and to our boys.

Timing is crucial. Fly up on Saturday, fly home on Sunday, back to work Monday morning.

Excuse me, breakfast has arrived.

*****

My meager repast completed, I have the strength to continue my story.

The flight to Toronto was rather uneventful, other that the timing of the connections going from NYC to Wash/Dulles then onto Toronto. My flight was marred only by the long taxing on each runway and the torrential rains.

The plane landed on time, having no checked luggage, I strolled the long walk from the plane to the terminal and to customs. Fifteen minutes later I arrived at customs, my meet with our Thyme only moments away.

How would we recognize each other you may ask? Ah. Planning and Simon's obsession with clothing our Thyme in her well deserved tiara and lime green boa as Simon did in one of the party stories. On my recent visit to Las Vegas, there on Fremont St., near the Golden Nugget, a vendor. Her wares? Boas! One of which was lime green. I was going to send it to Thyme.

I removed the boa from my bag, waving it proudly like a flag.

"Thyme?"

"Sabina?"

Screams and tears of joy! I have met her supreme highness, Thyme!

After our shared moment, we adjourned to the parking lot and to her chariot. Turning out onto the street, my excitement was momentarily dimmed...snow. Snow! Yes, snow. What was rain and flooding back home was snow in Toronto. But we are Tribe. We are determined. We would make it to the set sale already in progress.

Dear reader, I pause again. My shuttle back to the airport has arrived. Please stand by.

*****

I'm at the airport; again grateful to the Tribe and their good vibes via my cell phone. My Crystal Dick has made it through the xray unscathed. Having several hours to wait for my flight, I will continue my tale.

Thyme and I turned onto the highway, both of us scanning the signs for Queensway (how appropriate). Thyme is an excellent driver.

We see the sign, our goal is getting closer, we turn onto Queensway. Thyme's map nearby, my printed info in hand. We look for an address to check our bearings, are we close. The numbers are descending, 1000 block, 900 block, we're looking for 601 behind a Sunoco station. 700! Our excitement builds, the climax is near!

657, 653, 521. 521!!!

What the fuck?!

Thyme turns off onto a side street. We consult her map. The snow whipping around us.

"Oh bloody hell!" Thyme cries. We've gone in the opposite direction!

Thyme hangs a "U-ie". We turn again onto Queensway, the map clutched in my trembling hand.

We calm ourselves, quell the angst. Would the inclement weather deter QAF fans or would it be so busy that we won't be able to get in. Many scenarios and plot bunnies run through our heads. The tension is high. The snow keeps falling.

We are Moonshadow Tribe!

We continue our journey. Ascending numbers, then across the meridian until the numbers descend again. Our goal in sight.

"Oh bloody hell!"

What now, you might ask?

Police lights. An accident? A bust? No, gentle reader. The QAF set sale. The cops are ticketing anyone parked illegally.

We cruise passed. What to do? What to do? What would Brian do? Alas we are not HIM.

"Keep going, Thyme." I say, "maybe we'll find safe parking down further. Do you mind walking?" I ask with concern for our regale Thyme. "I don't mind walking." She replies bravely and in all sincerity. We find parking in a legitimate space, a bit of a walk but not too far. We fight the blinding snow to our destination.

*****

Again, the angst swells in my fluffy heart. Would there be a line? Would we be left standing in the snow?

We see the door...

Dear reader, I will, to the best of my ability recant my recollections of the events over the next several hours. My apologies to Thyme if I stray out of canon and into AU. My time spent in her fair but snowy city has become a blur.

We step across the threshold into a warehouse, the noise of the crowd assaults us. Merchandise, laying on tables, leaned up against walls and bent over shelving, I'm rambling. No discernable organization, nothing immediately recognizable. Our spirits begin to fail us. But we press on.

Thyme marches on I mean off, to the backroom.....where the sign indicates wardrobe .

Now some of our members emailed us with their hopes, dreams, wants and desires for specific QAF memorabilia. Thyme and I both wanted items that represented the spirit show and we hoped to fulfil our Tribes' dreams.

I cruised along the tables. An Emmett bag, Ethan's violin and case (I shielded my eyes), a forrest of Crystal Dicks with their velvet pouches, more bags, Justin sketches, license plates, more bags and then briefcase standing proud, standing aloof. Across the briefcase, masking tape with the words "Brian's briefcase Season 1&2" and the price.

The PRICE!!!

Dear readers, I am a working woman, single mother of three and associated youth. I had a plan, a budget. The briefcase would cost me 90% of my funds.

I dramatically sighed. I gently caressed the cool grey sides of the case. This was in HIS hands.

I picked it up, walked several feet then returned the case to the table. I was crestfallen. The man himself, left by the wayside, left all alone (damn you CL).

I blinked back my tears, determined not to let the allergies get the better of me. I walked away.

Perhaps a substitute would suffice. Something reasonable, some thing reliable, more affordable. My children need to eat, my mortgage needs to be paid.

I need a life.

I circumvent the room half looking for Thyme who was lost amidst the racks of Emmett clothes and scanning for anything to heal my broken heart.

I again found myself in front of the table. The case is still there! FOOLS! I wanted to scream. Have you no sense of loyalty, no sense of pride, no lust for the stud of Liberty Avenue. I pick up the case again reading the words written on the tape. I open the case, in its depths more tape, authenticating its provenance.

I hear Brian's voice. "Buy the fucking thing. Take it to Queens." He said to Queens, not in a Queen.

I would have Brian, um, his briefcase I mean. The case was meant to be mine. I closed the case, snapping shut the latches. I clutched the case to my ample bosom. Shades of Debbie hugs enter my mind. Brian's case is at my breast.

I send out my own Brian Kinney death glare. The case is mine, I do not share.

Still in a daze and with a white knuckled grip on the case, I go in search for Thyme and for something Justin.

I too, ventured into the backroom.

Rack and racks of clothes, tables of shoes, boots, sneakers and hats. Tables of linens, bedding and drapes.

I see a rack marked Justin. I could picture his sweet angelic sunny smile. A look through the rack couldn't hurt.

Gentle reader, the boy is too damned skinny! My own teenage boys couldn't fit in his shirts.

I sifted through the hangers. Sweaters, so thick so scratchy, made of heavy wool. T-shirts but very unimpressive. Nothing I recognize, no FCUK shirts, no belly shirts, no damned cargo pants.

Nothing. My only solace was the briefcase in my hand.

I continued to pick through the rack when my eyes gazed upon a denim shirt. Again, nothing remarkable. An ordinary denim shirt. The tag on the sleeve says "Justin $50." $50.?!!! For a shirt? I get closer, move the hangers and other shirts. Paint. Yes, paint. Splattered across the lower portion of the shirt, in a myriad of color. A Justin painting shirt. Perhaps something from his time at PIFA. It later shows up in S5 when we see Justin painting in his new apartment.

Brian's case, Justin's painting shirt. These two items, to me, represent, the show. The shirt would accompany the briefcase to Queens.

I must again apologize to Thyme. I'm tired, I am unbathed, my feet hurt and I haven't had a descent cup of tea since I left Thyme's house. My time line may be skewed.

Extricating myself from the clothing racks, I walk toward the tables against the walls. Gaily colored drapes mingle with the ordinary. More linens and bedding. Standing in a clear plastic case was a throw blanket. It was all jammed into the bag, black and white, with some sort of striped pattern. Zebra? White tiger? Hard to tell. Definitely something Emmett would appreciate. I slip my hand into the bag. I caress the soft fluffy fabric. FLUFFY!!! And only $20.00. Yes, my reader, a fluffy Emmett type blanket to keep me warm at night.

That was it, I reached my limit and found Thyme.

We were tired. Although it was cold outside, the masses of bargain hunters warmed the warehouse to a feverish pitch.

Thyme had found a Brian shirt, a request from our own Miss Margaret. But I could tell, Thyme was not happy. She also found a headband with a penis and balls attached. A very small cock, I may add; Thyme was left unsatisfied.

The line for the check out snaked through the whole warehouse like a conga line at Babylon.

Another pause while I check the Departure Screens......

*****

We are Moonshadow Tribe, we are family. Thyme and I find the end of the line.

"Go ahead, Thyme, I'll hold your stuff so you can look around some more." I said as I reached for Thyme's items.

As I stood on the line, I couldn't resist. I brought the Brian shirt close to my face, inhaling the scent, sadly it as well as the Justin shirt, were laundered. Gone was Brian's musky spicy scent. No cigarettes, no Beam. No apples and cinnamon, no young boy smell. *sigh* All washed away. I moved up 3 inches.

Towing, someone mentioned towing. The rumors that cars were being towed were racing through the place. Oh the humanity. Purchases left by the wayside, hoards of shoppers dropping their items along the way. Pandemonium. Would Thyme's car be there when we left? We were confident that we had legally parked.

As Thyme approached, I could see she was happier. She had found a "get out and vote pamphlet" and Justin Taylor, artist, promotional flyers. And dear readers, a Vic Grassi pass for Babylon! What a find! Our very own Thyme and Uncle Vic, united.

"Where did you find these?" I exclaimed.

Calmly, Thyme answered, "Over there, near the back room, where it says ‘Key Props.' They still have your Crystal Dicks and SUN's 6 foot inflatable cock, (her request from Ted's time as a porn king). I also saw a sketch pad in a plastic bag. There was a sketch of Brian on the top but I don't know what else is in the bag and it is a little pricey."

"Ah, but did you see the prices of the dicks, I reached my limit." My eyes looked down at the briefcase. Thyme nodded knowingly.

Dear sweet reader, do you know what our Thyme did next?

"Well, I can lend you the money if you want a dick and we can get to an ATM later."

GASP!!!

Leaving my finds in Thyme's capable hands I hurried toward the wall and the table of dicks.

First to examine the sketch. I took the bag off its nail. It was indeed of Brian, a Justin sketch with Brian's intense stare. There were more sketches underneath and the edges were burned. What a find! The very sketch pad burned in Justin's locker. I had to convince Thyme that this belonged with her. Quickly scanning the rest of the shelving, I saw Brian's cancerous testicle, actually there were 3 versions of them but way above my price line, the irony of it all. Brian had very expensive balls.

Across from the shelf stood the table of dildos, taking the bag with me, I found SUN's cock. A little limp but it looked intact. Next to it were the dildos but they kinda looked a little too gooey, if you catch my drift. I left them on the table.

I then approached the table of dicks. Standing tall, there were four left. Two were identical, approximately 7-inches with a 4-inch circumference. Not bad. The third was an inch taller with a pronounced curve. The forth, standing 12-inches tall, cut, with a gentle curve and a pebbled shaft. Checking each price, they were all the same. I grabbed the largest dick, my hand barely able to contain its massive girth and strode proudly back to our Thyme.

"Thyme, I will have my dick and you must have the sketchbook." A serene smile again graced our Thyme's sweet face. Sabina would never again suffer from dick envy. The Crystal Dick would go to Queens.

By now we had been on the line for over an hour, may be even closer to two hours. But we were getting closer and could see the cashiers. The warehouse door was open and we could see the snow storm rage on.

We were up next.

A kindly staff member greets us and asks us about our purchases. She sees my dick. My eyes narrow, does she have crystal dick envy? My grip tightens on my dick.

"Did you get the pouch for it?"

"Uh, no, I forgot."

"Wait here."

The kindly woman scampers away only to return with a deep royal purple, plush, velvety sheathe for my dick. I allow her to take my dick and slip it within the protective walls of its snug warm velvet lined sheathe. The tip of its head peaking out.

Is it getting warm in here?

Thyme and I approach the check out table and split up our bootie. I'm finished first so I stand aside and rearrange my stuff so that the elements wont harm anything. Thyme joins me as I place the Justin shirt, the dick and the Brian sketch within the protective briefcase.

We were spent.

*****

The next couple of hours were quite tame. We drove away in search of lunch. Then we headed for Thyme's house. Our only concern at the time was that the snow was beginning to stick.

About an hour later we arrived at Thyme's humble abode. We were exhausted. Thyme put on the kettle.

As we were waiting for the water to boil, Thyme gave me the tour of her most comfortable home and started to prepare dinner. We also wanted to closely inspect our purchases. Clever Thyme, she owns a digital camera and knows how to use it. " Let's take a picture of what we have and send them to Margaret."

Thyme found several more sketches and doodles under the Brian sketch. One, we believe, is of Chris Hobbs.

"I'll try to blow SUN's cock, I mean, blow up SUN's cock and you can take a picture of it for her."

"Great idea!"

I sat on the floor in the dining room and proceeded to blow SUN's cock. It was hard work. The cock remained limp for quite sometime, it also would have helped if I had noticed the quick deflate valve that was located at the base of the cock was open. After securing the valve, the cock slowly began to rise.

Much to my dismay, cock is really 5feet. You know how some of us stretch the truth. But at 5 feet it was still an impressive sight to behold. Stiff and standing proud. Amazing.

While Thyme took the pictures, I took that opportunity to breathe again. I never worked so hard for a blow job in my entire life.

Dinner was announced.

After dinner, we quietly sat, sipping more tea and watching the storm and the weather channel. We changed the clocks, spoke with Margaret and SUN and went to bed.

The storm continued through the night.

Another pause while I prepare to board the plane to NYC; the last leg of Thyme and Sabina's excellent adventure.

*****

Thyme and I arose early Sunday morning. A quick look out the window told us that our fears were justified. There were several inches of snow on the ground. We ate a light breakfast then talked over our game plan. We would hit an ATM, go to the set sale, lunch and if time permitted, Thyme would take me to Church St. so I can see Woody's and Brian's building.

I was packed and ready to go.

We arrived at the set sale moments before they opened. A combination of bad weather, the time change, and it was Sunday, we had the whole place practically to ourselves. Many of the items that were rejected by customers the previous day had been returned to the tables. Another advantage was that since so much stuff was left, they were beginning to slash the prices.

Our hopes had risen. If they slashed enough, I would have more than enough money.

We were frenzied as drag queens at a Pride parade.

A bag of 6 Debbie pens and pencils, originally marked $10.00 a piece. Slash! $5.00 for the whole bag. A bag of Debbie's beaded necklaces and bracelets....slashed! A teal blue Emmett sweater...SLASH!!! Another Brian shirt! Slash! The Eyeconic ad that Justin dropped, slash! A bag Justin fake nipple rings! A Justin cummerbund, slash!

Brian's cancerous testicle! A Brian green apple. SLASH! Lindsey and Mel's infamous vibrator SLASH, SLASH, SLASH!!!

It was slash city.

What would have cost $300.00 down to 60. and change. My bags of beads, balls, vibrator and Emmett sweater, $57.00 and change.

We came, we saw, we bought! It was time to leave.

We found a neat little place to lunch and had time for my tour of Church Street/Liberty Avenue.

It was time to leave.

I won't bore with my tale of woe. Needless to say my flight out was delayed, so much so that I missed my connecting flight back to NY. I spent a wonderful night (not) in Washington, but had my Brian briefcase with it's contents on the bed next to me and Emmett's sweater to comfort me.

I made it home Monday afternoon only to learn that my checked in luggage with the Emmett type blanket, remained in Toronto. Hopefully I'll get it today.

*****

The point of all this, dear reader? None really, except to chronicle our adventures in Toronto and to share this crazy ride with all. RL is often stranger than fiction.

With the memorabilia I purchased at the sale and creative buying from Ebay, I managed to accumulate my own "shrine" to QAF and to our boys. And I will cherish them always.

Sabina

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