Sometimes I think San Francisco tries a bit too hard to be all free and crazy and edgy. Then, you see the juxstaposition of the weirdest of the weird and the mundanest of the mundane, and you realize, nah, they really mean it.

Yesterday, we checked out the Folsom Street Fair. It’s a 22-year or something like that tradition that bills itself as the largest leather fair, in the funky ‘hood South of Market Street. Basically, it’s your everyday street fair with vendors selling shit, PSA-type information booths, fair food, but wait there’s more. The fairgoers are clad in every manner of leather, kink, fetish and just plain old weird wear.

I’m open-minded, but some fetish wear just seems like too much fucking work. Don’t get me wrong, I can see the sport in dressing like a pirate every now and again. But you take something like the “furries.” I just can’t get my head around dressing up in a floppy bunny suit as erotic, especially on an 80-degree, sun-burning day. At least the harnessed leather boys looked comfortable in their outfits.

M. was a little dismayed, curious about the food vendors, whose operation is generally a family affair, and their participation in the event. We watched an Asian guy, wearing shoes, sunglasses and a very thin leather strand of a G-string type device that ended in a cock-ring holding up his manhood, as he took money from his shoe and bought some Thai food. A girl no more than 14 or so was right nearby helping the family business and reloading the napkin dispensers.

The fair was like any outdoor city fair, so the crowds spilled around the area and were not strictly confined. Literally within a couple blocks of walking, we were at Trader Joe’s picking up some grub for dinner amid ordinary people wearing comfortable, nondescript, grocery-shopping clothes. A few hundred feet a way or so, handfuls of leather-clad cock were parading and preening and well, I guess, hoping to end the day as handfuls of cock, accessorized however.

For me, one of the two creepiest images was the extremely butt-naked guy (‘cuz he manged to bring nnaked to a whole new level), who looked scruffy and possibly homeless (but, of course, scruffy and homeless is usually judged by clothing), and who was contorting and writhing on the asphalt in the middle of the street, including a yoga stretch that’s finishing move was a finger up the bunghole.

The other was the guy in a skeleton mask jerking off and basically waving to the crowd. Nothing like the mask of death to kill my libido buzz (well, that and the public display weirdness of it all).

For the brave of heart or merely curious, you can check out some pics here.

My fave is the one below, because the sun glinting through and off a caged, harnessed, go go boy and illuminating a beautiful church is really what SF is all about.