A fellow diarist told a story recently of visiting small town where all the inhabitants seemed to be of the polygamous type. And it didn�t seem to matter what made up the threesomes, or foursomes...they were of various sexes, types and personalities.
It reminded me of my youth at the Chase Club in the legendary Chase Park Plaza Hotel. With a top 40�s group playing on stage, horns blowing, guitars strumming and drums drumming, we laid back on soft cushions, feet tucked under us, drinks nearby on low tables. Or lounge casually against the rail surrounding the dance floor, watching and being watched by the gyrating bodies moving naturally in nature's rhythms.
On occasion, eyes would meet. A subtle sign, imperceptible to anyone not looking. The smallest gesture, a hint of movement and one would follow the other out the door.
Sometimes we would find a dark corner, or the coatcheck room, maybe the unused DJ booth, doors unlatched for just such possibilities. Sometimes we would take over a stall in a bathroom built long before it was PC to build according to sexual differences and thus crowded with lines of bladder heavy drinkers hopping from one foot to another anxious for any opening.
If you had looked, you would have seen four feet in one of those too long locked stalls, sometimes six. A burst of pheromone, the scent of hot sex, the occasional stifled moan, sometimes the oh too obvious sound of lust and orgasm.
Satiated, we would exit, heads held high, wearing a secret knowing smile, breezing by those long lines without guilt, and eyes never meeting until the next time the brass horns blew.
 |
| Get Your Own Map | View Larger Map |