Long ago, in a magical time called the 1970s, people threw key parties. At these sordid, drunken soirees, male guests threw their keys into a pot, and the female guests picked a set at random, pairing up with the owner of the keys. Debauchery followed.
Today, lock-and-key parties (a British speed-dating phenomenon in which men try to match their keys to women’s locks) are all the rage. But who wants to walk around with a lock all night waiting for some dude to open it when you could be tossing back Singapore Slings and getting busy with the neighbor?
Recently, my editors asked me to resurrect the legend (some say urban legend) of the key party. Is there a chance that in this lame-ass era I can recapture the good times of the “Me Decade”? Or, like a junior-high school dance, will my key party be an uncomfortable disaster?