The Way Back Machine

I've hinted about it before, but I think the time has officially come to tell you all of the infamous Red Lobster Incident. Why is it finally time? Because I had kind of a boring weekend. I've run it by Slyde, and he begrudgingly has given his approval for this tale to finally be told.

Let me take you all back to the carefree days of the early 90's. A time when free love and generous portions of the drugs of your choice were readily available on every street corner. A time when the worst STD could be cured with a shot in the ass at the free clinic. Wait...I think I'm having someone else's flashbacks. None of that is true. Fuck...my 20's sucked ass!

Anyway, as most of you know, Slyde and I raised some hell back in the day. Lots of time spent in bars, nightclubs and whatnot. For Slyde, it was mostly about meeting new women. I was the shy chap of the bunch...not very successful with the ladyfolk, so I was mostly in it for the boozing on the off chance that some young lady having a bad day would lower her standards enough to glance in my direction. I've grown much more confident in my lady-killing abilities since then, thank you very much. And by "lady-killing abilities", I mean I've got a shovel, a big trunk and a secret spot to hide the bodies.

Let me interrupt this story to give the Slyde-man his props for a moment before I knock him down a bit later on. For all the bashing I provide to his manhood, Slyde has never really had a problem when it comes to the ladies. He always seemed to have a girlfriend or one or two on the vine...ripe for the picking. My own legendary single stretches would sometimes last for an excruciatingly long time, while his may have lasted a few weeks...at most. I've lost track of the number of women he dated before he was married. Now he's mostly a eunuch, but back in the day...he was the bitch's bastard.

Back to the story. So he asks me one day to go to a swinger's club with him. Huh, what? Did I hear him correctly? That's right...he wanted to go to a swinger's club with him. It was a joint around the corner from my apartment that catered to the wild and wacky swinger crowd. Slyde was just fascinated by this shit.

I mean I like the little fella, but not in that way so I was looking for a way, any way, out of the situation. But he explained that they had a "singles evening" every Wednesday night, and this is the night that he wanted me to join him there. You all just know exactly what was up in his perverted little mind. Why spend an entire evening at a nightclub trying to pick up women who may or may not be interested in jumping in the sack with you when you could go to a place where everyone's sexual agenda is already boldly displayed on their sleeves? Sounds like a plan and a half, if you ask me.

Now, as shy as I was, I've never really had a problem boldly going where no man has gone before in places like this. I would do it just for the laugh, or for a blog-post 15 years after the fact. My only real concern was running into someone that I know, but then I thought who really cares. I mean they are there too in the same situation. Might as well enjoy it.

(Sidenote: The very first time I ever went to an Adult Novelty store, I ran into a guy I knew. From work. FUCK! Uncomfortable. Me: "Hey, man...what's up?" Him: "Nothing...wife's away so I figured I would pick up some entertainment." Me: "Cool. Um, good luck with that. I'll see you in the office tomorrow." Him: "OK...see ya!" I was mortified. Not mortified enough to never go into another Adult Shop ever again. Hey, I was mortifed but the kid needs his porn, people! - Earl)

So Slyde shows up at my place and we head out to the swinger's club in our very best swinger attire. Which was probably jeans and sneakers on my part and a Members Only jacket with Capezio's on his part (I keed...I keed). I pull into the parking lot of the joint and settle into a spot almost directly in front of the entrance.

I'm set to head in, but Slyde grabs my arm. "Wait" he says. "I wanna sit her for a while to see who goes in." Okay...I close the door and we sit. Not a lot of action going on, I'll tell you that. But he wanted to see if it was mostly couples, single men or single women going in. In case you were wondering, he was looking for the single women. Shocker, right?

After a little while I decide that it's a little too gay for the two of us to be sitting in the car right in front of the place watching people go in. I mean, I don't mind looking gay every once in a while...for the laughs...but I draw the line at looking a little "too gay". The suspicious looks that we were getting from those entering and leaving were enough to make me uncomfortable, and Slyde was beginning to feel the same way. I suggested that we shit or get off the pot. Slyde wasn't quite ready for it, so he asked me to park across the street at the Red Lobster so we could watch the crowds enter from a safe distance.

I'm beginning to think that he may have lost it, but since I'm mostly riding along for a laugh anyway I do it. So there we are. Sitting. In the parking lot of a Red Lobster. Watching people come and go to a swinger's club. On Singles Night. For about a half-hour. So we traded in the strange looks we were getting from the patrons of the swinger's club to even stranger looks from the Red Lobster patrons. And those people are way more freaky than anyone going into a swinger's club. C'mon...all he shrimp and lobster you can eat for $9.99? That can't be good for you!

After a police car passed by us for the third time wondering which business we were staking out for our next robbery, I decided that it was time to make a decision. In or out. He hemmed and hawed for a few moments, but eventually he just couldn't screw up the courage to walk into the joint hand-in-hand with his hetero life partner (me!). Our evening at the swinger's club was over.

Too bad. As funny as it was sitting in a parking lot of a Red Lobster while spying on folks entering a swinger's club, I think it may have been even funnier had we had the nerve to walk into the joint. The club eventually closed its doors not long after our evening, but every time we drove past that Red Lobster we had a good laugh at our own expense.

I still wonder if there was anyone there that night that we knew. Or if Slyde ever manned up and headed into the joint on his own. Hmm? He never did tell me how he met his wife. ;)