Cuddle Parties

I don't get out much. This is basically an incontrovertible fact. I don't socialize very often. I don't like meeting new people. Mostly because they annoy me. To be fair, I'm also something of a homebody. Malls freak me out. I like to go straight home after work, with as few stops as possible along the way. I rarely enjoy hanging out at other peoples' houses. I don't like using public bathrooms. I'm not a hermit in the technical sense of the word, I don't think, but fairly close. I like to do things, but, you know, mundane kinds of things. A drink and a movie is about as thrilling as it gets (and come to think of it, it's been a long time since I even indulged in that thrilling an activity.)
So, you can imagine my absolute, sheer, and unadulterated horror, as I watched an episode of "Scott Baio is 45 and Single"--I'm a latecomer, I know--during which his life coach suggested he attend, and I can barely even type this...a CUDDLE PARTY. (Time-out while I vomit a little in my mouth.) The cuddleparty.com website describes a "boundary-appropriate workshop and social event for exploring touch and affection." Shudder. People wear pajamas (which always just makes me feel sick, or old) and lay around spooning with each other, holding hands, etc., in a "non-sexual" atmosphere. As if that's any consolation.
One of the FAQs on the website addresses what happens when you accidentally get wood. Well, maybe not you. Or me. But somebody, and that's more than enough information for me. "At a Cuddle Party, erections become Mother Nature's way of giving us the thumbs-up sign," according to the website. Which goes on to explain that it's A-OK, as long as nobody's dry-humping. Good lord. I have not the words. Scott Baio looked reasonably scared. Which made me like him a little bit better, to be honest.
If this is what happens in the outside world, then I'm just glad I don't leave the house very often.