The One Where I go to a Sex Club

Its no secret that I enjoy collecting bizarre life experiences.

This would explain why I found myself on the eve of Halloween, dressed as Katy Perry in the middle of a Sex Club.

My friend and her husband like to frequent a local “Adult Lifestyle Club”. They’ve been married a really long time and like to go to spice things up. Ever since she found out I write this blog, she’s been begging me to come out with them sometime: “COME WITH US SOMETIME! THINK OF ALL THE INTERESTING BLOG FODDER!”

Eventually, my journalistic curiosity got the best of me. After having some drinks with friends on Halloween weekend I agreed to meet her & her hubby at The Club where they were having a giant Halloween party.

I studied Social Sciences in university, so I decided I would approach this whole experience like it was an anthropological study. I’d go meet the locals, attempt to blend in, find out their secrets and report back to the readers of Skinny Dip.

My hypothesis: Weird stuff happens to me when I leave the house wearing normal clothes, so I figured things would get extra weird if I showed up at a sex club with two giant cupcakes strapped to my chest & carrying an over-sized lollipop. I mean, it’s inevitable right?

WRONG.

I don’t know what happened but, it was like the WEIRD just canceled out the WEIRD. Surprisingly, this was one of the tamest nights out I’ve had in a while.

Please see below for my “Field Notes

The Setting: I’ve never been to a Sex Club or a Swingers Club or anything that could be described as an “Adult Entertainment Complex dedicated to the Hedonistic Lifestyle” (I quote the website). I wasn’t really sure what to expect. The lay out of the club works like this: the first floor is a bar and dance club. The second floor is called the “penthouse” which means that for a additional admission price you can go upstairs & do...”other stuff” (bondage, watch/be watched, group play etc.). The 3rd floor is private rooms.

The first floor is like any other dance club with just a few small differences. There are stripper poles set up throughout the room, and people tend to be a little more “free” – for example you might see a girl spontaneously take her top off & start making out with another girl or guy or both. If you’re trying to get a feel for what this place was like, think: “A Gay Club for Straight People” meets “Cancun: Spring Break“.

Local Customs: The club has a strict “Ask Before You Touch Policy”. When a man approached me and asked if he could “touch my cupcakes”, I raised an eyebrow, narrowed my eyes, and shook my head “NO”. He politely retreated with his tail between his legs. No really – he actually had a tail. He was wearing a cat costume.

Dress Code: Most of the ladies were either wearing lingerie (bra, panties, garters) or some sort of costume that had the prefix “sexy” in front of it (nurse, french maid, cat, angel etc). Most of the women were really hot. It was mesmerizing.

As for the guys it was a mixed bag. Some were in costume. Some were in street clothes. I noticed that a disproportionate number of the guys wearing costumes were dressed as “Sexy Pirates”. In other words, I was surrounded by men who looked like they were wearing the Seinfeld Puffy Shirt.

I think “Sexy” Pirate is a bit of a misnomer here.

Local Rituals: My favorite moment of the night was when everyone gathered around for the “Sexy Dance Contest”. When I looked up on stage to check out the contestants, my mouth dropped open.

“Wait. Are those two guys dressed as……….CELL PHONES?”

At least I think they were supposed to be cell phones. They were both wearing matching giant cardboard boxes, with “buttons” painted on the front with a square hole cut out for their face.

I’ve provided you with a sketch so you can get a visual:


Comments from the anthropologist: Have you ever seen someone wearing a giant cardboard box try and work a stripper pole? That’s because no one should ever have to watch that. Its awkward.

Also, who wears a costume that involves a GIANT CARDBOARD BOX to a Sex club? I mean really. Its not like anyone is going to accuse you of dressing like a slut if you show some leg. YOU’RE IN A SEX CLUB FOR GOD’S SAKE. If you take into account where you are and who is there, wearing a refrigerator box to a Sex Club is about as appropriate as wearing THIS to a five year old’s birthday party.

MUPPET & SEXY are two words that should never be used in the same sentence. EVER. I’m just saying.

Social Structure: As I suspected, groups of three are the norm here. Near the end of the night, a couple asked me if would like to “go upstairs” to “look around”. They seemed nice but, I knew if I went upstairs to “look around” things could get weird fast. And I don’t mean weird in a “HAHA this guy in a Sombrero is hitting on me. I’m totally going to blog about this!” – weird. More like, “Omg, I’m in a Sex Dungeon and someone is trying to hand-cuff me to the wall and I don’t know the safe-word”-weird.

My journalistic curiosity has its limits.

I politely declined their offer and instead went and grabbed my coat.

Initiation into the Tribe: Because this club is Members Only, I had to buy a membership to get in. I am now a card carrying member of a sex club. No really – they actually gave me card.


I think it looks great sitting next to my Starbucks card, my multiple library cards and the card from the Sausage factory. I’m going to keep it in my wallet just to confuse people.

Concluding remarks on my sex club adventure: Did I love it? NO. Did I hate it? NO. Would I go back? I’m not sure. Although they accepted me into their tribe, I don’t think the “Adult Hedonistic Lifestyle” is really for me.

But, that’s not really the point. As social scientists we are supposed to go into situations, observe them and report on them objectively. With that said, I left the club longing for my own favorite brand of Sexy-Pirate free night-life, which includes listening to some of my favorite people : Lil Louis, Masters at Work, Dimitri from Paris, lots of stiff vodka beverages, lots of house music & lots & lots & lots of dancing.

So, on that note this Anthropologist kisses you goodnight.

(PS. If you’re slacking off on company time – I’m just warning you that this song gets very, very NOT work appropriate after the 6 minute mark. Enjoy!)

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