Key Party

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.

 

Friday Fictioneers

 

13 thoughts on “Key Party

  1. What a vivid description of ‘swinging’, as I believe it used to be called. I wouldn’t fancy that at all. I’m glad it’s no longer assumed that the wife will be compliant.

Whatever.