I tripped over on the way there and it hurt.
I don’t know why that seems like such an important detail but it definitely is. I rolled my ankle while walking alone to a sex class at 7pm on a Friday night and as I sat for a moment trying to work out whether or not my ankle was maybe broken I thought, “No. I shan’t be going. I just fell over in public and this is certainly an omen.”
I realised that if someone helped me up (which they didn’t) and said, “Hey, can I help you, where are you off to?” I’d have to say, “Oh, just to an adult sex class on erotic massage… can’t be late or I’ll miss the live demonstration! CIAO.”
But my ankle wasn’t broken, so I walked until I hit a red door and buzzed. They unlocked the door, but I mustn’t have pushed it hard enough so it locked again and I had to re-buzz and say, “Haha whoops! Didn’t work,” while muttering under my breath, “why am I like this“.
After three turns I was in, and I’d likely already pissed off the woman in charge of opening the door. I was feeling very sexy.
I was handed a glass of champagne and led into a dimly lit room, with a screen at the front and about 20 adults.
You know the funny thing about the number 20?
It’s even. Meaning there were 10 couples. And Jessie.
I looked around as discreetly as I could to get a vibe for what sort of person goes to a Friday night sex class. They were extremely normal. Most were probably between 30 and 55, although there was one couple that couldn’t have been older than about 22. I wondered… If they were getting into live demos of erotic massage now… where would their sex life be at 50?
But, no. I couldn’t get distracted. I had to concentrate on the very important slideshow about the history of erotic massage. There were pictures and the woman presenting had a laser pointer that didn’t really work but that’s okay.