Want to go to trapeze

Added: Montavious Hage - Date: 11.10.2021 01:58 - Views: 26363 - Clicks: 3552

Now this was interesting. The scent of sterno mingling with lustful ardor. Potato skins. Prime rib … When she added that proper swinger etiquette requires all attendees to wear tube socks, I was officially intrigued. The fanciful vision of naked swingers wandering around in tube socks while gnawing on buffalo wings captured my imagination. I resolved to write a restaurant review of Le Trapeze, picturing myself describing in florid detail the hint of dill in the green beans, the spicy chipotle sauce, the subtle saffron aroma of the rice pilaf.

Which is how I came to be dashing out for footwear and vodka. My bag bulging with swingers club supplies, I enlisted a friend and headed over to 17 East 27th street on Saturday night. Club rules stipulate that single men are not allowed inside, so as we neared the door, a guy stepped over to us.

Crestfallen, we decided to go in anyway. The cashier then issued us locker-room passes with names on them. The lounge itself was a low-rent libertine paradise. There was a proudly proclaiming that Le Trapeze was established in , which may well have been the last time it was decorated. There were plastic lamps in the shape of nude female torsos that flashed green and pink, dusty fake plants, mirrored erotica and wall-to-wall raspberry colored carpet.

Why anyone would elect to have carpet in a place like this is a mystery. The sight shocked me. Discombobulated, Krystal and I headed for the bathroom. Big mistake. The bathroom is connected to the locker room, which is next to the Mat Room, all of which were separated only by a few scraggly curtains, giving us a sudden glimpse of some muscle-bound champ enthusiastically pounding away at an unseen partner.

So we scrambled off toward the dining area, a collection of tables and vinyl chairs. The empty hot buffet bins sat sadly in the corner, near a wooden counter festooned with red curtains and fake flowers. It turned out, there were a few meager food offerings after all. A bespectacled bald man in saggy white underpants was piling his Styrofoam plate high with potato chips. Perhaps all was not lost! The Mexican flavor transports me to Tijuana. Muy bueno! OREO: This sublime medley of crispy chocolate cookie and soft vanilla filling is a delightful juxtaposition of textures and flavors.

Minty; chalky. As I was conducting my review, I noticed a guy on a nearby couch playing with his limp penis with one hand while eating Tostitos with the other. A sleepy nude woman next to him was gazing at the hard-core porn on the monitors like she was home watching a Law and Order rerun, munching on a bowl of Ruffles. Another woman was sitting with her legs splayed open, as if airing herself out. None of them were wearing tube socks. The club manager walked over. We probably looked a little down: slumped at our table, fully clothed, sipping warm Kool-Aid mixed with vodka. We get it: you like to have control of your own internet experience.

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Want to go to trapeze

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