On Friday, Mr. R came home around 7pm. It was the EXACT time I was supposed to show up at a "party" at Missy's friends' house. I didn't want to go to this party. I've known these people for four years and never once had a conversation with them other than, "Can you pick up the girls?" or "She's not home. Call later." Not exactly the warmest people. I was surprised to find I had been invited to a party at their home. Of course, I was given one day's notice, which made me assume I was a last minute addition. Not my favorite, but whatever.
I decided I was going to be fashionably late. After all, I had been given a last minute invitation, and most parties don't start on demand at 7pm, so I figured I'd be there by 8pm. Still plenty of time to mingle, say hello, and all that.
At 7:30, I got an anxious call from my daughter's friend wanting to know why I wasn't there yet.
How odd. Why does it matter that I'm 30 minutes late? I told the girl I wouldn't be on time. My suspicions were up, but I wasn't quite sure what to think of the situation.
I finally got to this girl's house by 8pm. Their driveway was PACKED. As in, I had to park in someone else's lawn, which always makes me feel bad. I walk up, only to find out, this isn't exactly a party. It's a sales party. Like Tupperware, or Pampered Chef. Only I discovered, in horror, that this was much worse.
It was a porn party.
Peeps, I walked into a living room where lingerie was hanging everywhere, special lotions that "warm and tingle" were being sampled, and large...uh...members were being passed around. *cough cough*
I stood there with my mouth open, which in retrospect was probably not a wise choice. The father of my daughter's friend beamed when he saw me. "Sarah!!! Take a seat!" and like a moron, I did so. I sat through one demonstration on how to properly use the tingly lotion (not with your tongue, or it will go numb) before I stood up, and walked out without saying a word to anyone.
I'm not a prude by any means. After all, I did have three kids by the time I was 23. I know people who found it amusing that I had the chutzpah to wear a white dress for my wedding, and I am not against "marital aids" if that's what you want to call them. What I'm against is being told I'm going to a housewarming party, and then find out its only sales that you're after. And seriously, considering that this is such a hot button issue, wouldn't it be something you'd mention, in case she has a moral issue with toys? And frankly, if and when I do buy something like that, it's going to be with my husband, and not in front of people who I see on a regular weekly basis! That's just not something I need for them to know about me!