I am developing a project, the comedy “Unicorn Sex Party” about a sex-starved divorcee and her foray into swinger’s parties and sex clubs. While in Cannes for the film festival, I thought it would be the perfect time to check out the vibe at the sex clubs – Oh la la! My theory was that the climate might be a bit more misogynistic than the clubs in the states, but then again the French pretty much invented sexy so I was anxious to check it out!
Famous for les club échangiste, I imagined Cannes swingers clubs over-run with starlets and celebrities during the festival. What famous couple would need me to jump-start their lackluster love life? What globe trotting billionaire would step off his or her yacht for a night of pleasure avec moi?
At 10 pm I was the first person to arrive! Awkward. Apparently business is slow during the festival because traffic is bad. The bartender was good looking, but very busy putting out pretzels and chocolates. I went straight for the jacuzzi, enclosed in a fabulously kitschy jungle grotto, avec exotic plastic plants and artificial rocks. Heavy black light completed the vibe, and as I stepped in to soak my aching feet, my Malibu Barbie pedicure glowed luminously pink in the luke warm water. Ahhhh.
The doorbell rang and a second and third man entered the building. I was outnumbered and fear crept over me like a wet blanket. A warning from a French friend back home: Be careful of the men in the clubs. My body tensed as I perched on a fake rock, ready to spring into action.
But they barely looked at me as they dashed around re-jiggering the stereo system. A man looking like Kenny Powers visited me briefly, inquiring in a heavy accent “Are you okay?” I nodded yes and he scurried off.
In the states, my experience in the swinger’s scene with men is that they generally pander to the pleasing of women. Men are reviewed online with comments like “good oral skills” or “excellent use of the hands” (lol). So when a single male approached me, I expected the same until he made oafish advances, in spite of me asking him to slow down. Ugh. I lost patience, put my clothes on and hit the cobblestone road!
Exactly one year has passed since my separation from my husband and the universe has provided me with plenty of sexual healing. So much in fact that I feel over saturated. However upon my return to the USA, I did have the pleasure of having a man give me a tantric yoni massage, which is all about pleasing a woman. (ladies, google it – amazing.) Although it is unfair to generalize, my experience proves a difference in male sexual behavior in the swinger’s scene in France. Vive la difference.
I recently met Janet Pierson, the visionary force behind SXSW. I stalked her at an event as she added condiments to her dinner, plaguing her with some inane small talk. Eventually she turned and hammered, “Have you ever been to SXSW? I advise all filmmakers to actually GO to the festival.” Damn. Okay. So I did.
As a filmmaker who makes a living via reality TV, there were plenty of reasons to go. My ten-year marriage had recently tanked so I was beholden to no one.. I hopped a plane for Austin for a whopping two days. I had to work on Monday so I only had the weekend. Luckily, I did the smartest thing possible… I went for the Interactive week, as opposed to the film or music week. Why? Because the indie film world and television, as we know it, are dead. It’s fucking over. There’s a whole new generation of people who don’t watch conventional TV and the world is their oyster.
Goldman Sachs Party SXSW 2015
Nothing could drive that point home more than a Goldman Sach’s party at a downtown rooftop, during the height of interactive week as opposed to film week.
The party was to capacity and the attendees were an attractive blend of techies, locals and venture capitalists. Most all were under thirty and don’t give two shits about three act structures or the star power of former Duck Dynasty cast members. Who do they love? “The Fat Jew” – the celeb from Instagram, aka comedian Josh Ostrovsky. His appearance at the NewsCred brunch was one of the highlights of SXSW, for the social media savy. He is so incredibly talented and funny I want to dip him in chocolate, roll him in Cheetos, then eat him up then pick my teeth with his dog Toast. Except I don’t eat sugar or grains. I need to stay fit for my new hobby – sex parties.
Before ‘ya’all judge, here’s the back-story. The last year of my marriage was plagued with a sexual drought, so I felt the clock ticking on my sexuality. The late Joan Rivers once said, “What is this grey thing down by my ankles – oh, it’s my vagina”. She’s not kidding – Fifty shades of grey takes on a whole new meaning. So I decided to celebrate the golden years of my sexuality by attending as many swingers clubs and sex parties as possible.
Cut to later that night waiting in line outside the Vimeo party. When surrounded by that much youth, I often feel like a vampire. I flashback on all the other lives I’ve lived and wonder if the people around me know I’m actually a million years old. Anyway, as much as I loved chatting, I was anxious to get my roam on. It was already 11:00 pm and that line was not moving. So I made the executive decision to call Uber (I know, they’re lady haters but I hadn’t set up my other accounts yet).
Vimeo Dance Party Vimeo SXSW 2015
Research revealed there was a sex club on the other side of town in North Austin. My Uber and I drove into the never-ending darkness that became a bunch of I-Hops and Denny’s morphing into a vast expanse of taco trucks and warehouses. Cat Stevens on the radio couldn’t quell my driver’s nerves until eventually we came upon the warm glow of neon illuminating a parking lot filled to capacity – whew.
Going into a sex club as a single female (or “Unicorn” as we are called within the swingers community) can be scary let alone uncomfortable. I immediately felt at ease when greeted by the girl at the front who was easily eight months pregnant. She was fresh faced and freckled like a “Carrie” era Sissy Spacek. And wow, what a ringing endorsement for the club – it’s like see, sex really does happen here!
Inside the place was massive with three floor to ceiling stripper poles and enough cabanas and beds to hold an entire earth repopulation effort! Far more space than participants, but the people in that club were beyond friendly and welcoming – they were lovely. But as the night wore on, it seemed like there was going to be more dancing than actual sexing, probably because it was the owner’s birthday. That would explain the party hats and the ghost of a potluck past strewn across the bar.
So after a quick grope with some sexy ladies that involved kissing, ass slapping and booby touching, I headed back across town. Famished, my Uber guy and I stopped for tacos. It was exactly at this point in the evening that I finally felt satisfied. Janet Pierson was right. Attending SXSW was way worth it because it gave me a glimpse into the future and an excuse to go play. So next up is Cannes – until then, stay safe — meaning no glove no love — and Muah!