Ring Ring!

Me: Hello?

Caller: Uh, hi, I met you once before and you gave me your card, so I'm calling you.

My card? That's odd. I did get a box of business cards printed once, a very long time ago. But I think I've still got most of them. It seemed like a good idea at the time, but I found that there were a very limited number of places a woman in my profession would have any desire to pass out cards. Most guys are understandably uneasy about carrying one around in their wallet—it's easier for them just to Google me. I cannot even recall the last time I gave a card to someone, so I'm puzzled by this caller's greeting.

Me: My card? Really? Where and when did we meet?

Caller: You were in my cab and you gave me your card. I've got it right here.

Apparently it's "Stump the Mistress" day. A cab? I have my own car and I haven't been in a cab in Seattle in—well, maybe never. It's possible that at some point years ago I may have taken a cab to the airport, and right now I'm just blanking on it.

However, I don't believe I ever told a cabdriver that I was a pro domme and then gave him a card. That just wouldn't happen, because I don't disclose my profession to strangers in nonkinky situations. Ever.

I know not everyone is as reserved about revealing their kinky identity as I am. For example, if a random stranger on the street walks up and asks my partner Max the right question—"What does that little emblem on your T-shirt mean?"—he'll tell them the truth. "It's a logo for a BDSM convention." Me, I'd answer with a frosty stare and silence. And my other sweetie, Roman, tells people all the time about his business making bondage rope. I have to admit, no one has ever reacted terribly badly. Sometimes they're quite intrigued, and at worst they sort of gulp, say "oh...," and back away.

Maybe it's a gender thing, or maybe I'm one of those unfriendly people newcomers to Seattle often claim to meet. But whatever it is, I'm not comfortable talking about my life as a dominatrix to people with whom I'm having the type of brief and superficial encounter one has with a cabdriver.

So what's the explanation for this? It seems unlikely that a Mistress Matisse impostor is cabbing around town, claiming to be me, and passing out business cards—although I suppose it's not flat-out impossible. However, the more likely scenario is that this guy is either honestly confusing me with another woman, or he's just inventing the whole thing. We'll give him the benefit of the doubt.

Me: Mmmnn, no, I think you're mistaken. I haven't been in a cab in Seattle that I recall.

Caller: Yeah, yeah, sure you were, you used to live downtown, right? I recognize your picture from your ad.

He's totally striking out here. I have never lived downtown. And while, yes, that's me in the ad, there's a reason why passports and driver's licenses don't use one-inch newsprint images to identify people. That tiny photo could be almost any size-six woman with long hair.

Me: No, you must have me mixed up with someone else. But, aside from that, you were calling about my ad for domination?

Caller: Domination? What's that?

That business card he claims to have? It reads, "Mistress Matisse—Professional Domination" in bold type.

Me: (Sigh.) It's what I do. You know, bondage, spanking, that kind of thing? I'm not an escort, if that's what you were thinking.

Caller: You're not an escort? Oh. Well, I don't think I know exactly what dom-i-nation is. Do you have a website?

Me: Yeah, I do. The URL is on that card you're holding.

Caller: Oh, uh—the card. Right. Yeah. I musta lost it. Can you give it to me again?

Click. I hang up. Take someone else for a ride, pal.


Kink Calendar

FRIDAY 11/10


Erotic dance and spoken-word entertainment in an intimate, art-studio setting, with some audience participation. Little Red Studio, 1506 Franklin Ave E, www.littleredstudioseattle.com or 800-838-3006, 9 pm, $30.


The footbag—known to the squares as "Hacky Sack"—is a small pouch, manipulated and controlled by the feet. Some footbag enthusiasts stand in a circle and play together. Others prefer a more structured and rigorous game called "footbag net." Still others stand apart, turn their concentration inward, and practice footbag all by their lonesome. A variation of footbag, called cuca patada, is played on the streets of Bogotá. "Cuca patada," literally translated, means "twat kick." Ravenna-Eckstein Community Center, 6535 Ravenna Ave NE, 937-7504, $5, 10 am—5 pm.



Open to people of all genders and orientations who are involved in or interested in polyamorous relationships. Wet Spot, 1602 15th Ave W, building E, www.scn.org/~spg or 728-4533, 5—8 pm, $3—$5 donation, membership not required.


Shuck your clothes but mind your manners—the Naturist Action Committee sponsors a nude but nonsexual indoor swim. Helene Madison Pool, 13401 Meridian Ave N, www.seattleswims.org/NAC, 8—10:30 pm, $10—$12, ID required.


Love Lounge is an "adult social club" that holds events for bi women and male/female couples—no single men, please. Lovelounge@lovelounge.net, 9:30 pm, no cover, membership required, 21+.


Military uniforms are encouraged at this Veterans' Day shindig, where Seattle Men in Leather will buzz off your hair and spit shine your boots for donations to local charities. The Cuff, 1533 13th Ave, 323-1525, 9 pm—midnight, $10 donation.

SUNDAY 11/12


Sensual touch instruction for couples and singles, facilitated by David Longmire. No experience required. Wet Spot, 270-9746 or massage@wetspot.org, 5—9 pm (doors close at 6 pm), $10, members only.


Instructor Connie Perez discusses the use of fire in a BDSM scene. Wild at Heart, 1111 NW Leary Ave, 782-5538 or www.wildatheartxxx.com, 5:30—7:30 pm, $20.