This man wanted me to go to a swingers club with him. He wrote in it the subject line of his first email. I am open to new things and I had been wanting to go to this place for a while, but my best guy friend would not take me because he is a prude ... and probably a communist.
But first, a quick primer on swingers clubs.
Swingers clubs are legal in the province of Ontario since 2005.
And the following is pulled directly from Wikipedia:
Swingers clubs are either groups that organize sex related activities or an establishment where patrons can engage in sex acts with other patrons. A sex club differs from a brothel in that, while sex club patrons typically pay a fee to enter the club, they have sex with other patrons rather than with sex workers employed by the establishment. Larger establishments may also include the facilities of an ordinary nightclub such as a bar and a dance floor. Each sex club sets the rules for activities which take place at club organised events. Traditionally swingers' clubs do not discriminate in regards to physical appearance or age, the average age of a swinger is 39, while the ages when people first enter the swinging lifestyle average 31 for women and 34 for men.
This man was a regular at this club. You had to be a member to even get in the door, plus cover and drinks cost a fortune. My date J. paid in cash. The husband and wife owners were busy mingling and pretty soon one of the nearly naked hostesses was giving us a "tour". The club is a converted 3-storey Victorian home. The first floor is a beautifully appointed resto lounge that also serves dinner. The second floor is not accessible without a wristband because this is where the swinging happens. You must also be naked to be on this floor. Clothing is stored in a locker. No exceptions. Floor Two is a large white open concept room with a bar at one end and a Jacuzzi and glass shower at the other. In the middle are a variety of beds covered with a white fitted sheet. The third floor "penthouse" is more intense with various toys, rooms that can be rented for the night and walls covered in black paint. Everywhere there are bowls filled with condoms and we were told that sheets could be changed upon request. I found all this incredibly interesting, especially since it was completely empty. Midnight on a Friday night and the place was totally abandoned. When does the fun start?
My date was recently separated from the mother of his very young children. He had met her at university 17 years ago and said "we don't get married on Quebec" with an arrogant air, like marriage was a silly concept. I did not argue with him. It was too loud and I did not care as long as he kept buying drinks. This wasn't a therapy session. He talked endlessly about his prior adventures at this club. He reminded me of the hilarious character in American Pie who begins every breathless sentence with "One time, at band camp..." He kept asking if I knew what went on at this club, if I had ever seen the website and how you had to be really open-minded to come to a club like this. Blah, blah, blah. Well, frenchie, where I come from we don't talk our women to death.
In short, I was bored. I stared at every individual in the club and pictured myself having sex with them. Women included. It did not help that was the youngest one in there by 10-15 years, excluding the hostesses. Single men have to pay an outrageous fortune to enter alone, if they come with a woman it is less - hence, the reason J. asked me here. I was his ticket in at a lower price. He wanted discounted anonymous sex. What a charmer.
J. interfered with my reverie when he began to talk about something new. He mentioned that during his (non)marriage, he had had a "secret" older, Colombian girlfriend for a year. That he had fallen in love with her. That he had left his (non)wife and 2 infant children to marry this woman but that she would not leave her husband and 3 daughters because - of course - she was married too!
He suspected - he continued with no prompting from me - that he was not her only boyfriend on the side but that she had always sworn she was faithful ...to J. - to the man with whom she was having an affair. And he went on to say that after they had broken up (two short months ago) he had gone back on Craigslist and the first woman he emailed ...was her!
I could barely contain my laughter, but I managed to keep a straight face. After all, what kind of people did you expect would love a place like this?
It was clear he was trying to fake that he wasn't dying of a broken heart. He tried his best to act like he wanted to fuck me (a total stranger!). He put his arm around me. He tried to hold my hand and then looked for any reason at all to let go of it. He kept smelling my hair and telling me I smelled nice. The first time was cute, the 11th time was pathetic. I was tempted to tell him that my last boyfriend who had a hair fetish is now doing 25 to life in the penitentiary for armed robbery. (Fact.)
He got into a conversation with the (older) couple seated to our right who were (ahem) married. Immediately the 3 of them began to talk: about what goes on at a place like this, what the website looks like and how you had to be really open-minded to come to place like this...etc.
I decided to call his bluff.
"When are we going upstairs?"
"Well" he sighed and leaned away from me, "there is no rush."
Really, son? That's not what most men say.
This was my cue to make like Cinderella and run. "Wow! Look at the time! Thank you! Goodnight!"
Thirty minutes later I was tucked up in my immaculate bed reading a book with a pussycat purring beside me. Pure Heaven.
Oh! Did I mention that I stopped to get a cheeseburger on the way home? Apparently the place did inspire a craving within me.