I have thought for a while about what to write on this blog, as I have not wanted it to be all about RV-ing, or travel, or political, or any one subject. Basically, I wanted a platform to write on that would allow me to express myself based on where we were in our encounters. This presents an issue with choice, where I have a slew of topics and ideas and cannot settle on one. As a result, I have redone the design of the blog many times, to the frustration of my friends, while I try to figure out how I am going to contribute to the overall prose section.
Currently we are in Florida at a RV park with some friends. Over dinner last night I was relating about our time when we were camping at a Swinger’s resort. After mulling it over, I decided that was the perfect story to begin with, so you can understand exactly what kind of blog this will be.
First, I have zero issues with Swinging or other types of ethical non-monogamy. If everyone is of an age of consent, is of sound mind to give consent, and practices safer sex, I have no issues. Not my cup of tea, but if no one is forcing me to drink the tea, I don’t really care.
I am not going to go into all the factors that led us to staying at a Swinger’s resort, but long story short, we had six weeks of free camping and were at a spot where that type of money savings was attractive. Our swinger’s resort experience was on.
Not to contradict the Hollywood / Porn industry version of swinging, but these places are NOT filled with young, beautiful hedonistic men and women frolicking through the nightmares of right-wing Christians. Nope. No Eyes Wide Shut here. More like this episode of Bob’s Burgers:
Mostly people much older than us, running around naked and frisky. For those nearer our peer group, they weren’t as sleek or as svelte as they thought they were. I am not body shaming, and if you ever want to get over body issues go hang out at a naturalist community for a while (everything just blends together), but I was a bit overwhelmed by it all. I am perfectly accepting of all body types, even when displayed nude. However, when they are pushed on me in a sexual context, I start pulling the “I have social anxiety card” and retreat to the RV.
(Side note: This was also really weird to me as someone that has also been to Kink/BDSM camping events where consent is king, and no one would dare to touch or sexualize the situation without getting clear, informed consent.)
During our stay, there was a big event. Apparently, an event that draws swingers from AROUND THE WORLD to attend. Or at least there was a good mix of countries represented in the 500 or so attendees. During this event there are several competitions and gatherings, the most important being crowned the King and Queen of swingers for the year.
Basically, Homecoming where votes are acquired via sexual favors and similar behaviors.
I am not making this shit up. In my craziest alcohol fueled dreams I could not make this shit up.
For the entire weekend I was approached by contestants, watching them in talent shows, and having to endure their interviews on why they are the best representatives of the swinging community and should be crowned King or Queen. How they best represent the values of Swingers and work to promote swinging in the larger world.
Since I had made it clear I was not participating as a swinger, I took out my trusty henna kit and offered free henna as a method to remain social, keep myself occupied, yet keep a clear “do not disturb the artist” barrier around me. One of the reasons I love doing henna is it gives me a chance to meet people in a more one-on-one context, where I am not as anxious. Plus, the attention is on the henna, not me, so I can relax a bit.
I am not a bashful person when asking people questions about what makes them tick, and I used this opportunity to understand what drove them to come down and be part of this annual swinger pilgrimage.
This is what I realized after a few dozen henna sessions:
- We live in a very sexually repressed society, and after a certain age, people just stop giving a fuck and need a place to lower their inhibitions a bit.
- There was more monogamous sex than swinging sex occurring here.
- Couples felt freer to try new things and discuss issues here than they do within their normal social structures.
- When it is 85+ degrees, clothing sucks, and we should be able to run around naked.
I still don’t have any idea why there is a Queen or King of this event, other than it gives everyone some entertainment and distracts them from the fact that there wasn’t nearly as much sex happening as they had imagined there would be.
There is no point, or funny ending to this story, except to say:
Yeah, this shit happens. I don’t fully understand it, but I am glad people have found something that makes them happy for one weekend a year. America is also kind of awesomely weird, and we continue to have great adventures on the road. Some of them will eventually make it to this space.