I’ve been a slacker with posting. I’ve felt a little terrible each Wednesday for not posting a B story, and then last week I felt REALLY terrible, for reasons completely unrelated to this blog. I felt terrible because the previous night I’d watched the presidential election, and saw the US sink inch by inch into the quicksand that is Donald Trump’s campaign. Just like quicksand, the the harder democrats fought against Trump, the more quickly we all sank deeper.
Anyhow, this isn’t going to get political, but needless to say, I’m sorry for not posting for a few weeks — with exception to last week, because I legit walked through the day as if I were a zombie.
That morning, I woke up next to Jerry and didn’t even contemplate jumping his sexy body, because I was overwhelmed with “WTF” (ok…maybe I briefly thought about it before reverting to “WTF” mode). I then stared at the wall and contemplated whether going into work was even possible. I couldn’t come to a conclusion because, as stated, I was overwhelmed with “WTF,” so I asked Jerry if I ought to go in. He suggested yes. Possibly because it was what he felt I needed, but also possibly because he could feel the “we’re not fucking today” vibes rolling off of me, and figured it was pointless to have me laying on his bed like an antisexual slug all day.
Now that I really lay those two possibilities out there, he definitely chose “go to work” based on the latter.
I believe that last time I posted, I said I would tell a funny story the next time. Here goes nothing.
A few years ago, I was single like a Pringle, living life and having fun hanging out with friends. Mostly with one friend who had moved to the same little burb-within-the-city that I lived in. We were two peas in a pod, except she was SUPER outgoing with a big personality, and I’m ever-so-slightly-shy (though totally down to act like a fool in public WHEN. EVER.) in new situations. It was her birthday, and she wanted to go to the bar and then a club.
Even when I was in college, I wasn’t really a club person, so being in my mid-twenties, this wasn’t going to be my kind of night. BUT, when it’s your friend’s birthday, you do what she wants! Also, my friend was in grad school at the time, and at the bar, it was mostly her classmates. They were all reveling in a night away from the books, and were getting smashed. I am not really the type to get smashed, because someone needs to keep their wits about them, and, well, nobody else ever wants to be that person!
I wound up talking to my friend’s bosses for the first two hours at the bar. While in school, my friend was a nanny for a rich couple in their mid-thirties with a few kids. I’d thought it was odd that they were invited to her bar/clubbing birthday party, but they were nice and I was having more fun chatting with them that I would’ve had watching her friends knock back shots…sooooo…win!
The husband, Mark, owned his own business. We talked a lot about the town I’d gone to college in, because he’d gone there too! He also told me to send him my resume at one point. Mark was good looking enough, but not so good looking that he was intimidating. Traditionally handsome, but not do-a-double-take-when-you-pass-him-on-the-street.
His wife, Rachel, on the other hand, was smokin’! Total MILF. Like, how she had the body she had after birthing three children is beyond me. My body isn’t as good as hers and I’ve birthed nothing. Womp… She had a cute pixie cut and was smart and funny. Basically, if I were a guy, Rachel would’ve been the total package for me! And even as a girl, I had a bit of an “omg you’re so pretty and cool,” crush on her.
My friend announces it’s time to head to the club. Mark and Rachel were only staying for the bar portion of the evening, so I’m bummed and say something like, “aww man who am I going to hang out with now?! hahaha.” Mark announces that maybe they can come to the club a little while. YAY!
We all walk a few blocks, and Mark — who is between Rachel and I — throws his arms around each of our shoulders. I think it’s a little chummy but WHATEVER! I’m tipsy and YAY OLDER COOL FRIENDS! We get to the club and the line is long. Like, at least 50 people long. I’m annoyed, since waiting an hour to enter a club I’m not even sure I want to be in sounds lame.
Mark walks to the front of the line and then comes back to say all 20 of us can jump the line and go in because he paid the bouncer. Whaaaaaat! Mark is awesome! All hail Mark!
Once inside, we’re all dancing in a group. At some point, I feel someone take my hand and look over to see it’s Mark. Silly Mark, he’s too tipsy to know that is wife is on the other side of him! I slide my hand out from his and continue dancing, laughing awkwardly. He smiles back and yells over the music, “Sometimes my wife and I have threesomes!”
My response is to smile wide and nod enthusiastically the way you do when you have abso-fucking-lutely no idea how to respond. At the time, I imagined that it came off very obviously as, “oh wow, what an incredibly random thing you’ve just said! I’m trying desperately to pretend it’s very normal and not kind of weird that you’ve shared this thing with me,” but, in hindsight, it’s possible that it looked like, “COOL! That sounds like it might be fun!”
Because I am shocked and unable to believe that the couple my friend BABYSITS FOR has maybe asked me to join them in bed, I tell myself he was just sharing. Then I look around for someone else who I can go talk to. Unfortunately I missed everyone else splitting off to go buy drinks at the many bars lining the large room. I’m alone dancing with smiling Mark and Rachel. FML.
I excuse myself for the bathroom and grapple with whether to tell my friend that 1) her employers are swingers and more important 2) THEY MIGHT WANT TO SWING WITH ME! When I rejoin the group, I gravitate toward the other folks I know, but Mark is soon by my side, saying he and Rachel are going to leave and want to know if I’d like to take a limo back to their home in the burbs to fuck. Welp, scratch the “might” from point 2) above. It’s a “definitely,” now.
Thoughts that go through my mind within seconds:
- If I want to have a threesome in my life, this is probably the ideal situation. Why? Because they’re the couple and I’m the unicorn, meaning things will be less complicated for me. They’ve obviously done this before and can take the lead. I’m genuinely attracted to both of them — especially the female (which is not my preferred gender, so that’s a huge bonus!).
- They want me to go back to their home where their KIDS are sleeping! What if we’re having a bang session and one of their kids has a nightmare and comes to knock on the door?! Am I spending the night?? Who will they tell the kids I am in the morning?? Are their kids USED to strangers being in the house in the morning? Do they KNOW their parents are swingers??
- How will I get home? Their house is at least a $40 cab ride from my house. Will they drive me home in the morning?? That’s waaaay too weird.
- I can’t leave my friend’s BIRTHDAY PARTY to go HAVE A THREESOME WITH HER EMPLOYERS!
Ultimately, I’m on my period, so even if I was okay with all of the squicky facts brought up in #2, could get over #4, and figured out #3, nothing was going to happen that evening. I tell Mark that there’s no way I can bail on friend’s birthday evening so early (which is true!). He asks for my number. I laugh and he asks again. I am unsure how to say no without being offensive to MY FRIEND’S EMPLOYER, and figure there arrrre those points made in #1, so even though I’m 99.9% sure I never would, it doesn’t hurt to give the # and then say no later?
My friend walks Mark and Rachel out, and I follow not-too-closely but close enough so that once they are gone, I can run over, catch my friend alone, and say “oh my god…I don’t know if I should tell you this, but Mark and Rachel just solicited me for a threesome!”
I told her because I had to tell SOMEONE. Why didn’t I tell someone else at the party? Well, I didn’t want to tell someone who might be judgmental about people who have threesomes, because then they’d think negatively about the people my friend worked for. Buuuuut maaaaybe I should’ve told nobody or told someone else, because my friend was pissed. At ME! She said she’d seen me talking to Mark and Rachel a lot earlier in the night (at the bar) and that I must’ve been flirting with them, etc, and secretly wanted to have a threesome with them.
It’s been years. My friend and I worked it out. Mark and Rachel never contacted me again (thankfully!). But what do you think?? Was I at fault here??