It's On and Poppin'

This past Monday I had a nightcap with three of my sessy ladyfriends, one married, one practically married, and one single like me. After a brief debate over whether the bar we were in was once a club that hosted jungle weeklies in our misspent youth (that night I'd realized Midway was once Save the Robots, fuuuck we're old), the subject turned to sex, as it often does. We covered anal, the evils of lube, birth control and lack thereof, the morning-after pill, abortions, all the hits. After a brief pause in the conversation, Practically Married says, "Since we're being candid, I'll say that a friend of mine came back from England with something that kind of changed my life." We were all, what, a new vibrator, schnoozers...I should've known no friend of mine would come weak like that. "They're called poppers. It comes in a tube, and you sniff it, and it makes you crazy horny. It's amazing." We all took a moment to absorb the exciting new world of possibilities that had just opened up before us, and then we had a million questions. My dad told me about poppers when I was in high school, but he made it sound like one of those things you couldn't get anymore, like Quaaludes. Nay nay, my friend. I forgot that we live in the city of one thousand shady sex shops, and what you can't find here you can get on the Internets. Forget everything you thought you knew about inhalants. And 1970s gay male culture. Poppers, so retro, so now. Let's try 'em! You first.

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