Suburban swingers: Beyond the sex

Not quite yet. It was still early — 10:45 p.m., and the tour began with trips to every "room." Theme rooms, swing rooms, voyeur rooms — you name it, there they were. Red lights above each doorway indicated what was free, and you had to schedule with the hostess — no reserving too far ahead of time (I watched several groups of women trying to sweet talk the scheduler around 11 p.m. for post-midnight bookings, but to no avail).

From round beds that people outside the window could rotate by pushing a button for an optimal view to a structured system that involved staffers scheduling rooms and changing sheets, I was surprised at how smoothly things operated. (From a business perspective, I was impressed.) Our guides also joked around as we walked into each empty room, trying to put the newbies at ease. When they suggested we head to the group room, I tried to feel gutsy. Sneaking up on a group of people actually having sex? Peering in, I saw all the beds were empty at this point. Later, I was told, things would heat up. Couples of all ages and races gathered on the sofas near the "observation rooms" drinking and chatting. Many greeted each other warmly, like old home week. I was told about 70 percent of club members meet up on popular swingers' Web sites such as Club Voodoo.

Back upstairs, at first glance, the sprawling bar could have been a regular bar anywhere. The club's policy was BYOB, and the moment you walked in the bartender smoothly took your bottles, asked your membership number, and put them on ice. When people wanted a drink, all they had to do was give their number and one instantly appeared. Nice service, I thought. But looking a little more closely, I could see signs this was no ordinary bar. One woman who looked like she could have been a parent volunteer at my son's preschool suddenly thanked the female bartender with a passionate kiss instead of a dollar tip. A bartender took his shirt off and accepted five dollar bills down the front of his pants from virtual strangers.

I swear several nicely dressed women smiled right at me instead of at my husband. The same thing happened in the women's bathroom (which, by the way, could have been the washroom at Nordstrom's where moms say hello and commiserate with toddlers in tow). As I washed my hands, some women looked at me a little longer than, well, normal. I left pretty quickly.

By far, the most action occurred on the dance floor. The "blackout" was planned for midnight (glow sticks were distributed throughout the night), but I was assured security would be good and nobody would grope anyone without an OK. I would have liked to stay later to see if more action happened, but my husband was anxious to go. I should have taken a girlfriend!

Three things struck me about the club atmosphere and clientele: Everyone seemed to be in a great mood (and this is before the action of the night began), lots of people seemed to know each other and everyone seemed pretty relaxed. The owners ran their club like a business, socialized like a host and hostess would anywhere, and seemed proud to preside over a club that so many people "in the lifestyle" called home on weekend nights.

As for the swinging and social scene … strange — yes. Sexual — absolutely. Sleazy? Only a few people who were so scantily dressed my head spun. Surreal? You bet.

But, on the surface, and behind the scenes, it was all very well-orchestrated as couples who'd communicated online met up or new ones greeted others. For the swingers that Saturday night, life seemed pretty good at the Tabu Social Club. People may not understand it or condone it, but perhaps they ought to respect the choice. Whether you are a woman swept up in thinking about the swingers phenomenon or curious to explore it, the big question on your mind must be this: Why do married women do it?   Share your thoughts about it here.

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