Night of the Passion Party

My bachelor party is scheduled to take place this Saturday and, while I know none of the details, I’m already giddy about one thing: the B.P. double standard. That is, the understanding that guests of the bachelor party are sworn to secrecy–and, indeed, subject to prison time for revealing even the most minute details–but those who attend the bachelorette soire have to spill the beans.

To wit: Ana confessed that last Saturday, while I was enjoying a very innocent first-birthday party with my twin nieces in White Plains, Ana was in Philly attending a “Passion Party.” If you aren’t plugged into the Bachelorette Party scene, a passion party (aka “pleasure party”) is basically a Tupperware party with dildos and ointments instead of rubberized bowls. Actually, for all I know, rubberized bowls may have been utilized, too.

This posting from Craig’s List explains further:

You and your friends will have the unique opportunity to taste, touch, smell and check out the power of all the products in a comfortable atmosphere of the home party setting. I bring the Adult Store to your Door!! All the stuff you wouldn’t go into an adult store to purchase, is available and EXPLAINED! I aim to entertain, educate, and equip you to spice up your romantic lives in just a few short hours! Our presentation is professional, tasteful & educational not to mention – the most fun you’ll ever have!!

For more details, check out Passion Parties by Linda. I’m not sure if this was who Ana’s bridesmaids, Neha and Parisa, hired, but the links to “passion products” — such as vibrators, bullets, waterproof, and c-rings — will certainly give you the gist (the pics are just a little too dirty and revolting to post here).

When Ana arrived home she was still buzzed with excitement from the party, and proceeded to rub innumerable pheromone lotions on my hands. Sorry to say that this didn’t have the intended effect, and Ana quickly lost interest and moved on to writing thank-you cards to her shower benefactors.

On the positive side, the sparkly lotion did seem to interest Fuzzy the cat, who came over, licked my knuckles, and began attacking Ana’s pulsating, battery-operated, chrome bullet as if it were a futuristic rodent.