People I Want to Punch in the Throat by Jen Mann Read Free Book Online

chorus of hellos rose up. I looked around the pool to see who was there. I’d heard Maryanne inviting many people from the office, and I was sure there would be someone I would recognize. But I didn’t see one face that I knew. Where is everyone? I wondered. And who the hell are these people?
    We were surrounded by more fiftysomething people in teeny-tiny patriotic swimwear. WTF?
    “Hi there,” a barrel-chested man in extra-small flag shorts said, smiling at me.
    “Hello,” I replied.
    “Want to try the hot tub? It feels great today!”
    “Uh … no thank you.” I looked around for the Hubs. Surely he would not like this semi-nude man chatting up his new wife. I couldn’t see him anywhere.
    “Maryanne said you forgot your suit,” Flag Shorts went on. “It’s okay, Elliot forgot his suit, too!” He pointed to a bald man lounging luxuriously in the hot tub.
    “I always ‘forget’ it!” Elliot laughed.
    “You’re so bad!” Maryanne squealed as she jumped into the tub next to Elliot. Before I could avert my eyes, they started making out full throttle.
    “My eggs,” I squeaked. “I need to get them out of the heat before they spoil. Excuse me.”
    I turned back toward the house and heard Elliot call, “Hey, Joslyn, after you put those down, come on back! I’ll save you a seat! Maryanne doesn’t mind sharing, do you, babe?”
    “Nope. I’ll share if Joslyn will share,” Maryanne said.
    Are you fucking kidding me? Holy shit! This was no ordinary Fourth of July party with co-workers. These people were swingers! And not hot ones. God, why are swingers always so gross? Why is it always old, fat men with ponytails and wrinkled women with fake boobs? Why can’t I just once be invited to a swingers party where I’m the hideous one and everyone else is smoking hot? It’s a pretty sad state when I’m the best-looking one at the swingers party!
    I ran into the house and quickly found the Hubs hoovering appetizers off the food table. “They’re swingers! They’re swingers! Red alert! They want to have sex with us!” I grabbed the Hubs’ plate and threw it in the trash. “Stop eating their food! We can’t owe them anything. We cannot be in their debt. They will want to be paid in blow jobs!”
    “What the hell are you talking about, Jen?” the Hubs asked, starting another plate of food.
    “Put down the food and listen to me! I just got invited into a threesome with Maryanne and some old douchebag who isn’t wearing a swimsuit!”
    “You did? Is there anyone good for me?” the Hubs teased me.
    “Shut up. This is serious. We need to go! These people might rape us!”
    “No one is going to rape us. They’re too old and too drunk. We can totally fight them off. Besides, this pasta salad is delicious. I’m not leaving until you try it.” He offered me a forkful of pasta.
    “I’m being serious!”
    “So am I. This is fantastic! Is the grill hot out there? I want to grill up one of these brats.”
    “Oh my God! Don’t go out there! They’ll invite you into the hot tub.”
    “Relax, Jen. I just want to make a brat.”
    “Seriously, stop eating right now! I want to leave. I am very uncomfortable with this.”
    “Hold on. You are the one who wanted to come here. You told me that Maryanne is so cool and you wanted her to be your mentor. You wanted a mentor, so get mentored. I’m going to eat. Where are your eggs?”
    “You’re really going to eat?”
    “Of course. I’m starving. I didn’t eat much lunch, because I hoped there would be a spread like this. Just grab a seat on the couch and wait a few minutes for me.”
    I sat on the couch gazing at Maryanne’s normal-looking family pictures while the Hubs stuffed his face. Where are her kids today? I wondered. Do they know their mother is a swinger?
    “Joslyn?” It was Flag Shorts. “Are you coming back outside? We’ve got Jell-O shots.”
    “Thanks, but I can’t. My husband needs me to stay in here with him while he eats.” I