Swingers

Last weekend, J and I took a mini-vacation to West Palm Beach where we were almost picked up by -wait for it...

swingers!

Here's how it started. I heard that 97.9 WRMF was having a free (keyword!) Artists You Need to Know showcase, featuring the Script, Parachute (the lead singer is adorable!), and two other groups whose names are currently escaping my old lady brain.

Anyway, I asked J if we could go because I thought it would be a fun adventure. But J works really hard, he's a territory manager for a national coffee chain, and he often wakes up at 4, so on the weekends, he really prefers to do a whole lot of nothing. West Palm Beach is about an hour/an hour a half away, and he jokingly said, "Only if we can rent a room."

Which, duh -was impossible because that would've been an added expense. Sure, the concert was free, but when you factor in drinks, dinner, gas, AND THEN a hotel room it would've been too much.

But!

But J is a member of the Hilton rewards program, and he'd accumulated enough points that we could go for -wait for it...

FREE!

This is a picture of the pool area, where we relaxed on Saturday when we arrived, and on Sunday, after our free (FREE!) breakfast.

K, enough background information.

So Saturday night, we got all dolled up and headed to the Blue Martini. I'd never been to the Blue Martini, but the drink menu certainly lived up to the hype. I had a s'mores martini and J had a Mango Madness martini, and they were delicious. Best thing? The drinks were half-price! Unfortunately, I didn't find that out until I paid for the bill. Trust me, we would've showed a lot less restraint if we would've known that in advance. :)

I was super excited. The place was pretty packed and we didn't want to stand, but all the seats were either taken or reserved.

K, so we're standing, just kinda milling about, when this older couple invites us to sit at their VIP table. We start chatting and they seem nice enough. The boy, G,was kinda talking to me a little close, invading my space a little. Instead of talking to me in my ear, he was like two inches away from my face and he was occasionally brushing up against me. But it was totally subtle, and I'm not sure if it was just a case of me thinking that I was cuter than I actually am, which is usually the case.

So they're telling us about themselves -they're both 50 (which they looked really good for), he's in construction, she does hair and tends bar, they drank a bottle of Patron on their way to the bar ON A MOTORCYCLE, and all kinds of other zany, mildly terrifying adventures.

Hmmmmm.

At this point, J whispers, "These people are swingers, right?"

Oh, good. It's not just me.

Unfortunately, after about half an hour, we got kicked out of VIP because quel surprise, they had just written their names on the VIP card. Shocker after all the stories they'd shared with us.

So we're standing, still shooting the breeze, when G said,

"Man, J. I'd really like to smoke some pot. You got any pot?"

To which J replied, "Um, sorry man. I don't have any." G asked him like three more times. By this point, I can tell J is getting uncomfortable, but the final nail in the Are They, or Aren't They?coffin was when G whispered to J,

"Your wife is really cute, man. You know that?"

Um, that was our cue to leave. We skiddadled right out of there, missing the last two acts.

But, cookies? It makes for such a great story!