I thought it was a party. Get to know the neighbors.
All of us were newlyweds, all college graduates. New jobs, no children yet. Our subdivision mirrored how we saw ourselves. Fresh paint, aluminum siding, all the conveniences. Like the trees on the new lawns, we had few branches, threw scant shade.
I think it was Frank Reilly’s idea. He’d read about it somewhere. Everyone drops a house key into the bowl and gets a drink. Then they keep drinking. Night’s end, choose a key and that was your house for the night. Your wife for the night.
That’s why.
