3. Monachopsis: The subtle but persistent feeling of being out of place.
This wonderful little word was recently listed in the article "23 Emotions We All Feel But Don't Know The Names Of," and it's funny I should come across it this past Sunday, because it perfectly describes the feeling I had the night before, at a sex toy party I attended against my better judgement.
Oh, I know what you're thinking, "Oh, that Ted. Such a prude. I always knew Corb was the kinky one in that relationship!" Well, you be WRONG on that count, Missy Cookie. I do kinky things all the time! Why, just the other day, I used a big black dildo to stir the cream in my morning cup of coffee.Everyone knows I like my coffee black.
But really, I have nothing against sex parties per se. I think everyone should have the opportunity to come together over lubicrants to discuss anal sex and fellatio. Really, I do!
No, it was just this specific sex toy party. This group of individuals. And not even all ogf them, just one or two. And also, it was the bad timing. Timing is everything with sex and sex parties, right? Here's a lesson for you, sinners: don't enter a sex party too close to the climax.
Now honestly, up until that moment, the day had been perfectly lovely. A total ten. It began as a nice trip to Boston to visit Escape the Room with eight of our friends (we managed to escape the room, with ten minutes to spare), followed by lunch at Fajitas and Ritas (it was eh, and we kind of made a scene), followed by a walk through the Public Garden. We had then planned to cap off our day by watching a friend perform in a local production of Xanadu, but by the time we were done with all that and back to our car, it was 7:30 and there was no way we would get there in time.
So we chose to go to a sex toy party. I really had no interest, but several of the folks we spent the day with were, and they were all so nice about asking whether we were going ("please say yes!") that we decided what the hell, let's do it. So, we drove back from Boston, stopped at the house, fed the animals, located the place, got lost a little...
...and by the time we got there it was 9:15 and the sex toy demonstration was well underway. The hostess of the party greeted us at the door, armed with french ticklers. "Our old house isn't half as nice as yours," she said, leading us through the entranceway and the kitchen to the living room, where the party was being held.
Oh well, who cares? It was still nice. But the living room, like a lot of those old Victorian houses, was actually two rooms kind of joined together, and most of the folks who had been invited were crammed into the second half of it. The room we were standing in was mostly used for snacks. Some of the folks were drunk, some were totally into the demonstration. One person was sleeping. But as I looked around the room I immediately realized...
I was the oldest person there.
I know, big deal, right? I don't know why it bothered me so. But I immediately started to feel a little self-conscious.
The instructor, a lovely vixen with curves in all the right places, was in the midst of conducting a bondage demonstration involving a twinky looking gay guy with peroxide blond hair when we entered. My friend Hot Coco immediately jumped up from where she was sitting and shoved a sack in my face.
"Teddy! Pick one and read it!" she commanded. I did as instructed. See? Told you I am good at taking orders.
"My name is Ted and I like guzzling cum," I read outline. Laughter. Applause.
Coco then shoved the sack under Corb's nose. "Now YOU!" Corb (reluctantly) did as instructed.
"My name is Corb and I get lost in foreskin," he called out. Laughter. Applause. So far, so good.
"Okay then!" called out the instructor. "Now, let's go back to our bondage..."
And that, my dear friends, is when I committed the worst act possible.
To get a better view of the demonstration, I crossed past the tied-up twink and tried to walk into the room where everyone else was sitting. Just to try and fit in. I stood there awkwardly as the instructor resumed her demonstration, fitting a red gag ball into the wink's mouth. I took in what was going on, trying not to feel as old as I felt, old as a brittle used vibrator past its prime, when all of a sudden:
"You're blocking my view! Move it!" screamed a girl to my left. Oh wait, I know her! It was someone I knew from theater. Someone I've cast as a lead. Wait, someone I've cast as a lead? And she's screaming at me? No, "Ted, could you move?" No, "Hey there! Get out of the way!" Just a mean bellow? After I cast her as a god-damn lead?
Totally embarassed, I muttered an apology and walked oved to the other side of the room. Red faced, I turned around to see what was going on with the demonstration, when suddenly:
"Dude, you're blocking half of the fucking people in the room!" screamed out a woman with short black spiky hair. Maybe a lesbian? I don't know. Does it matter? "Get the fuck out of the way!"
Fortunately, at that point, my friend Josh offered me a seat near him. I sat down, relieved not to be the center of attention.
But the damage had been done.
So there I am, stewing in my juices, watching the peroxide twink get tied up and contorted in all the wrong places, and all the time, thinking about the lady with the spiky hair and my so-called theater pal. How dare they make me look so foolish? Especially because I felt so old and out of place and awkward to begin with. How dare they make me feel so horrible? Make me feel like I'm in middle school, picked on and unloved, all over again? HOW DARE THEY EMBARRASS ME PUBLICLY AT THE SEX TOY DEMONSTRATION????
As I sat there, fondling some lubricant that was being passed around, I resolved to handle this maturely. I no longer was in middle school after all. It was time to sit back. Let it go. Relax my emotions. Be the adult. Act like the oldest person in the room that I was...
"A pregnant lady!" I sputtered at Corb over cheesecake, exactly one hour later. I had taken to communicating in short phrases by that point. With lots of head shaking.
Corb looked over at me and shook his head, too. The things he has to put up with.
"Pregnant!" I giggled almost maniacly and jabbed at my cheescake. "Pregant!" I shoved the cheescake into my mouth. "I was rude to a lady who was pregnant. Pregnant!" Pieces of cheesecake sputtered across the table.
"Six months pregnant," Corb reminded me.
"I didn't know that at the time!" I said, as if that was an excuse. "And now everyone is going to hate me. I've ruined my career and lost all my friends."
"And you say I'm the dramatic one," Corb said, trying to hide a smile.
"That was the worst sex toy party ever," I said, fuming. "The worst! In the history of the world. The worst."
Corb spread some strawberry sauce over his cheesecake. "Worse than that time the vibrators sold were all used and covered in syphillis..."
"Worse than London's Great Sex Toy Disaster of 1886? That one was awful! Queen Victoria was so not amused!"
Corb set down his fork. "Ted, really. You didn't even yell at her. You just kind of glared and ignored her. Oh, and when she told you she was pregnant, you kind of looked bored and said, 'Oh, how nice.' That's all that happened!"
"My reputation is in...tatters! And now I have to go apologize to a pregnant lady. A pregnant lady! But honestly Corb, she shouldn't have ordered me to sit down like that. It wasn't very nice!"
Post-script: after a rather sleepless night, the next morning I did my best fondling and groveling and made nice with the pregnant lady that had yelled at me to move at the party the night before. But I still contend: people should not be made to feel monachopsis at a sex toy demonstration! It is the worst feeling EVER.