Usually I'm fully in touch with my inner "freaky little monkey," but something happened last night that I totally missed until I replayed the evening in my head this morning - I'm pretty sure I was propositioned to "swing" with a couple of 60 year olds.
First, let me talk about this couple. The female in this "swinger sammie" (we'll call her B) is cool, hip, hot and didn't look a day older than maybe late 40's. This woman is who I aspire to be when I'm 60. Seriously. She sings in a band, plays a couple of instruments and is strikingly beautiful. I almost asked about her skin care regimen because she's doing something right, for sure!
Her husband, on the other hand, must have sprinkled magic fairy dust on himself to veil his true appearance because he's no where near her league. Good ups to him because she seems to love him with all of her heart; they're actually a really cool, sweet couple.
So, onto the kicker. When they left the party (they held B's 60th surprise b-day party at my event space last night), he turned around to me and said, "Get in touch if you want to party. We're always down to party." I didn't think much about it, told him I didn't know of any parties and went home. DUH!
Am I wrong? Maybe he really did just want to party with me (I am kind of cool), but I think there was a naughty undertone to his version of "party." Is "party" code for something in the swinger world?? Kind of like the white rock?
I'm pretty sure I smelled the marijuana during the evening, so maybe he was asking me to "party" aka smoke a "fatty boom blatty"? Who knows. Regardless, neither swinging nor dope are part of my repertoire, so I'd disappoint them either way.
Never one to disappoint, I'll leave you all with this.
No comments:
Post a Comment