He continued. "Just hold your questions for a moment, Jim. It's a small group, made up of people here in the development. You and Debby meet all the qualifications, you're both young, healthy, attractive, and in a stable relationship…"

"So how'd you qualify?" I asked. What the fuck was he talking about? What the hell kind of club was this?

Jerry made a face at me and continued. "Carol and I assured the group that you and Debby were quite discrete. Discretion is an important aspect to membership in the club."

Discrete? "What is this club, Jerry? The Weathermen? The Nazis?"

"Of course not. It's a, er, social club. We get together roughly once a month for a small meeting. There's normally twelve members, six couples, but recently a couple moved away. So now there's an opening."

"Okay, so why the secrecy?"

"You have to promise you won't divulge anything about the group to anybody. Or else I stop now and we talk about the weather."

"Yeah, okay. Sure. Cross my heart and hope you die. Now what gives?!"

"Well, it's a swing club."

"Huh?" If I had heard Jerry correctly, I was going into major shock. But I couldn't have heard him correctly.

"A swing club. You know, a little swap party, that sort of thing. You know what I'm talking about."

"Yeah, I do." A crash from the kitchen indicated that Carol had also gotten to the heart of the matter. But no screams of indignation followed, no bellows of "We're leaving!" Maybe Debby could take this kind of news better than me. "Jerry, I think you would have surprised me less if you were a Nazi."

"It's surprisingly common, Jimmy."

"Not to me it isn't. And besides, you're my best friend! How the hell do you keep something like that to yourself. I had no idea. All this time you've been leading a secret life!"

"Oh, bullshit. We're the same people you've known for years. It's just that every few weeks we do something a little out of the ordinary. I mean, we go to a cocktail party. This one just gets a little more personal."