call for alcohol before the presentation starts!” Isabelle called out. “Anybody? Drinks?” Several glasses went into the air including Jenny’s plastic penis which caused another eruption of laughter.
“Have a drink, Lee,” Mahjong whispered to me. “I’m driving so I’m not drinking and I figured you’d need to more.” I glared at her for a moment. She smirked and within seconds I acquiesced. Mahjong went into the kitchen with a few other girls and came back, handing me a large stein with liquid too dark to be beer. “It’s a rum and Coke. Heavy on the rum.” I coughed initially at the sharp taste of booze and then downed a quarter of it without tasting it as soon as I regained my composure. Mahjong smiled as she popped the top off her bottle of juice.
“Okay ladies,” the auburn haired woman in front of the table said, sharply clapping her hands to emphasize her point. “Can I have your attention please?” It took a few minutes for everyone to settle down. “My name is Clarissa,” she said, smiling at everyone. “Those are your order forms, or as I like to call them, your menus, so that you can choose what you like. And for those of you who have never been to an Outside the Box party before please remember that you will get what you want tonight as I have tons of stock in the sales room ready to go home with all you horny women!” There were several loud screams, a general explosion of whistling from all around me and someone poked me with their pencil again.
Sales room? What the hell does that mean? I had no intention of buying anything. I wasn’t some liberated Westerner; the kind my mother said was responsible for sexually transmitted diseases, global warming and overpriced rice in North America. No, no. I was a respectable, thirty-two year old second generation Indian girl married to a good Indian boy. I did what my mother said and cleverly hid from her and her large network of spies the things I didn’t want her to know. I had nothing to feel guilty about aside from a few light beers or the occasional store-bought curry I tried to pawn off as homemade.
Okay I was guilty of lying to my mother about the nature of the party at Isabelle’s house. I told her that Mahjong and I were helping make centrepieces for the wedding. I remember when my mother first met Isabelle. It was at my engagement ceremony at Uncle Varki’s house. My mother must have envisioned the person responsible for bringing her beloved son-in-law Manny to her to be a dignified woman with a refinement accredited to those astute enough to understand the subtleties of a proper match. She was visibly disturbed when she saw Isabelle wearing a pink leather jacket with sequins over a black lace camisole that barely covered her breasts. It was so see-through Uncle Varki dropped his plate of food twice. Despite the fact that Isabelle’s appearance put her off, my mother, in true hypocritical fashion, was full of praise and compliments to the greatest matchmaker of all time.
“Ladies! Ladies!” Clarissa said clapping her hands loudly. “Back here! Remember me?” The noise level in the room slowly subsided. I became increasingly more uncomfortable with the seats that Mahjong had picked. We were too close to the front which meant every pair of drunk and sober eyes would see my reactions first.
“Okay, let me explain some things for those of you who have never been to a party like this before. There will be some information passed along to you that might shock and surprise you.”
Information? What could she possibly say that was so shocking? I knew there were probably more than three sex positions but what was the point in trying different ones? Missionary worked for when I was tired, sideways meant I was the only one who could see my rolls of fat and I only used doggy style when I wanted to plan out my grocery list but didn’t want Manny to see my face in case he figured out what I was doing.
“Who here has been to an Outside the Box party before?” she asked. Several hands went into the air including Jenny’s, Isabelle’s and Mahjong’s. “And who has not?” I put my hand up barely past my shoulder. “Well that would make all of you virgins,” she said with a mocking tone and a monstrously huge smile.
“Ha! Virgins!” Jenny said as she tapped the heads of each of the ladies, including me who had their hands in the air.
“You’re a virgin!” a dark haired, long-nosed woman behind me slurred as she pointed at me and laughed.
Clarissa cleared her throat to speak. “I always like to start my presentation with a few true and false questions that I want you ladies to feel free to answer out loud. Are we ready to start?” There was an array of excited shrieks. “Okay, let’s start with an easy one,” she said studying a battered piece of paper in her hand. “True or false, most couples stop masturbating after they are married?”
The women were silent for a brief moment and then Jenny yelled: “False! That’s when they start doing it more!” Everyone with the exception of me began laughing. I heard a few of the girls at the back high-five each other. How could they be so cavalier about touching themselves? My mother always told me masturbation would make me blind, deaf and shorter; none of which made for a good bride.
Clarissa redirected her gaze to the paper in her hand. “Correct that’s true. Now here’s another one, true or false, masturbation is a healthy and natural way to learn about one’s own sexual responses and capabilities.” I pulled on the fabric of my turtleneck and avoided anyone’s eyes. This just wasn’t a subject I felt comfortable talking about. For God’s sake, I blush when I set my cell phone to vibrate.
“Masturbate! Don’t hesitate!” the petite young girl next to Jenny said.
What in the hell was I doing at this party? I felt the first bead of sweat start to trickle down my back.
“Correct. That’s true,” Clarissa said with a smile. “Okay, next question on that similar subject, true or false, women who masturbate with a vibrator become indifferent towards intercourse with men.” The women had only slightly hushed when one of Jenny’s friends shouted: “Screw that! I love my BOB!!”
I looked at Mahjong who could read the question in my eyes. She leaned in and whispered in my ear “Battery operated boyfriend” as she wrote it out on the back of my menu.
“Ah, I see,” I mumbled. I had no idea what she meant. From the moment I walked in I felt like I had checked my brain with my coat and nothing anyone said made any sense to me.
“Not so fast ladies…” Clarissa said. “Actually if you’ll turn to your order form, you will see the last item is our $120 toy. Now this toy won’t make you indifferent towards men, it will however make you care less if you don’t have one, or if the one you have doesn’t pick up his socks!” There was another rousing roar of laughter. This time I joined in more as a result of the rum hitting my bloodstream than actual comprehension. “That toy is the best one I have ever seen in fifteen years of working with this company and he shall henceforth be known as The King.” I followed the lead of the girls around me and searched out the item she was referring to. I wrote the word “Raja” next to it, drew a smiley face and put the pencil back under my plate. I was never one to not pay attention in class; when all the other girls were out on dates or having sleepovers, I was studying or writing papers to maintain an A average. Heaven forbid I fail a class and have my mother remind me that no one wants a stupid bride.
“Okay, true or false, most couples rarely discuss their sexual relationship openly with each other.” Several women started whispering but no one answered. Clarissa repeated the question.
I could still see the huge smile on Manny’s face when I told him a few weeks ago about the party. I expected him to react with horror, shock or disgust but he didn’t. He’d even heard of the parties and knew more about them than I did. What I hadn’t anticipated was how he would light up like a firecracker when I told him I was going. Why was he more excited than I was? What did that say about our sex life?
We had been married for just over five years. Our sex life was fine. After all, we had sex …. occasionally … when time allowed and fatigue wasn’t an issue … or a great television season … or I didn’t feel extremely fat. The truth is we fit in sex when it was convenient to our busy schedules. Between Manny’s hockey practice and my general lack of desire, sex easily slipped off the