Swinger's Update

Woo Hoo!

More tidbits of data on the secret Swinger network here in the north Atlanta suburbs.

We've learned of two more ways that Swingers signal each other. Secret Swinger signals include flamingos, not real ones, either plastic ones or pictures of them. No word on color requirements. This disclosure recalled for us that a mid-50ish couple who moved last summer from down the street had a bunch of Flamingos at their moving away yard sale. Hmm.

Why flamingos? Beats me. But I'm studying them for clues.

So far, I've learned that Flamingos are not all necessarily pink, and apparently they come from Las Vegas, the Swinger capital of the world. So, having the Flamingo as the Swinger mascot makes some good sense.

Swinger HQ

Another secret Swinger signal is to decorate the ground around your mailbox post with rocks. This makes sense around here, where rocks are not generally used in decorative landscaping. Typically the small area around your mailbox post will be just grass, or pine straw, or flowers. But not rocks. So, this should leave less room for potential misunderstandings, which could be very awkward given the subject matter.

Well, gee, I'm really sorry dude, but when I saw the rocks around your mailbox I figured it would be cool to sleep with your wife.

Yeah, we've all been there.

One can also decorate the mailbox with additional hints about oneself!

Not-so-subliminal Bragging

So, flamingos and mailbox rocks. Swinger magnets.

One more piece of news. But first to set the scene, we live in a pretty big development of 1,100 homes, broken up into smaller neighborhoods. The neighborhoods are conveniently sorted more or less by "price points," so we all know pretty much how much everyone else's house cost. This is a big point of interest in suburbs generally. Our neighborhood is about the smallest, with 70 houses.

But . . . word is that the Swingers are shunning us. And by "us" I mean our whole little neighborhood. Which is shocking when you consider how incredibly attractive and interesting we are as a group. I feel oddly insulted and hurt, like I've been turned down by a prostitute.

So, why the Swinger snub? Well, it's Bunko's fault. The ladies on our street play Bunko. Bunko, I'm told, is a game that requires only slightly more skill than Deal or No Deal. It is played by suburban women who are looking for a good excuse to get out of the house and drink heavily with their friends. Why they think they need an excuse for that escapes me. And Bunko is not just an activity, it's a league. There are prizes. There's a waiting list to get in. There aren't any playoffs or anything, but there is a lot of gossip. And there's the rub.

The Swingers are afraid of the Bunko gossip. Or at least one is.

As the story goes, from a local Realtor, a woman was looking at a house on our street, but shied away after hearing how the Bunko league worked. Apparently she was "swinging" with a guy on the street, and didn't want his wife to find out. Well! This raises all kinds of questions! I thought that to be a Swinger that you had to do it as a team. Otherwise you're just some horny guy, or chick, trying to get laid. If you're just sleeping with another woman behind your wife's back, that's not swinging, that's cheating, fooling around, getting some on the side, etc.

I am really disappointed in the integrity of our local Swingers. You'd think there would be standards.