Accidental Swingers

Funny enough, it all started in a gay bar.

My wife and I had been in New York for a few months. We were adjusting to our new jobs and (sort of) to our new lives, but friends hadn’t quite made it into the equation yet. So we were quite excited when one of our friends finally cajoled us into going out and meeting with a few of his friends. He was of the flamboyantly gay variety, so we met up at a packed gay bar in Chelsea.

The first few people to join us were various acquaintances we knew, but as I came back with our second round of drinks, I saw a few new faces standing around with our group. A couple, in fact. Now, as east-coasters who married young, we don’t have a lot of “couple” friends – most people we know are in less-serious relationships or not in them at all, so the sight of two young, married couples was a welcome site. He was Mark and she, Sarah. He was a trader (who in NY isn’t?) with a solid midwestern build and square chin, very farmboy except for the tailored shirt and mock-ironic plastic-rimmed glasses. She was “in fashion” (two for two on cliches!) and looked the part – severely angled stiletto heels and skin-tight red jeans coming up to meet with a loosely draped striped top, all covered with hipster-gaudy necklaces and bracelets. A nose stud rounded out the look. We took to chatting with them immediately and found that, aside from being married, we did have a lot in common. They were less new to the city, but also outsiders, and they had struggled to find other people in their situation. Given how packed it was, we ended up spending most of the night dancing with them (losing our host sometime around 1). At the end of it all, we found ourselves grabbing a late night drunk slice and planning our next outing. We decided that this went well enough, and that we would host Mark and Sarah the following weekend for a more low-key night of wine and whatnot.
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Suffice it to say, Dee and I were quite excited when Friday evening rolled around and we started to set things out for our little “party”. Cheese and tapenade in the kitchen, a couple bottles of pino grigio and bordeaux blanc on the dining table, and we were set. At about 8:30 we finally heard someone ring our apartment, and we buzzed them up.

With wine instead of well drinks, the conversation flowed even better this time around. Before we knew it we were finishing bottle number four, all of us a bit tipsy. Sarah, clearly the drunkest of us, got up from the couch to use our bathroom, and I volunteered myself to go to the kitchen and grab another bottle. As I was pulling the chilled bottle from the fridge, I felt hand slap my ass and squeeze. I laughed and turned to give Dee a kiss, only to find Sarah standing behind me. I wasn’t quite sure what to say to her, but she cut me off with a laugh and told me to hurry back with the wine.

I sat back down and poured four new glasses at the coffee table. Sarah was playing with a deck of cards we kept on a shelf under the table, until finally Mark snatched them away.

“How about a game?” he asked.

I was in no mood to gamble money, but I was wondering what he’d propose. “And what kind of game is that?”

“Texas hold ’em. Simple enough and always fun.”

That’s fine,” I responded “but no money. I’m too drunk to worry about that.”

We decided instead to play with quarters from the change jar. Mark set to shuffling the deck and teaching Dee the rules (she had never played), while I engaged in an aside with Sarah about our jobs. She hated hers about as much as I disliked mine, and that mutual dislike seemed to animate her even more. She waved her arms wildly with every statement, but odder still, she kept brushing my chest with her hand and grabbing my thigh.