Every once in a while someone picks up the phone and makes a call that forces you to reevaluate who you are inside.

That happened for me earlier this week when a friend called to ask if Bert and I wanted to go to the Kink Festival.

Now I have been well trained by my geek husband and so my first reaction was ‘to the internet’. You see I have no idea what a kink festival is or what is consists of.

First off there are actually ‘kink seminars’. I don’t know all the details but I picture some sexy pyramid scheme promoted by voluptuous women in latex Cleopatra costumes.

Really not my cup of tea.

Anyway, seminars aside I was, I admit, momentarily attracted by the Japanese anime themed costume ball. I love costume parties, Halloween is my second favorite holiday and Sailor Moon was one of the best TV shows of the mid-90’s.

But there was a video-ad.

And in the video-ad women went around looking sexy and touching each other. Oh there was nothing inappropriate about it – nothing that would be covered by a bathing suit was caressed (and sex-ed classes teach us that’s ok). But I am so not into strangers touching me.

The other day I was walking the dog and some guy made a comment about my ass – I spent the next two hours trying to figure out why I thought it was ok to walk the dog in short – shorts. I’m 31 for crying out loud.

So the conundrum…on one hand I don’t like not knowing about a whole chunk of society…on the other hand – what if someone touches me.

Walking to work I resolved the perfect plan – a full burka.

Then it occurred to me that if I showed up at a kink festival dressed in a burka I might find myself insulting a whole spectrum of people. And, when all is said and done, getting beat up is really all about a bunch of strangers touching you really, really hard.

So I chose ignorance.