The article I found mocked Killing Kittens parties as "Slaughtering Pussies" and titled their article about the arrival of KK parties in NYC "There’s A Massive Sex Party In NYC For Elite People This Weekend, So You’ll Know Where To Find Me". Well, the article says that:
If you’re living in New York City and you’re currently short on plans for Saturday night, why not pull yourself together and go to Killing Kittens first-ever NYC sex party with the city’s elite? Sure, you have to be attractive, between the ages of 18-50, very rich, and able to refrain from calling the company “Slaughtering Pussies,” but who among us can’t manage to squeeze themselves into that profile for one night?
Oh, there is one other catch. For men to attend, they have to be accompanied by a female. Chicks can attend alone and fuck other chick’s boyfriends or dates, but no single guys. Single guys are not welcome. Single guys are undesirable creeps. (Yes, I read way too far into things.)
The sex party is kind of inexpensive — $100 for women and $250 for couples. Certainly less money than buying a hooker. Not that I would know the costs associated to such a thing. Maybe that price break is because they don’t test for STDs. For $1,000, people would want to know they aren’t going to leave diseased. For $100, they’ll take their chances. But according to the NY Post, Killing Kittens (AKA Slaughtering Pussies) does provide plenty of condoms, which we can all agree is super thoughtful.
And the Manhattan standards for "attractive" will doubtless be far higher than in London--- that's not even a question. Needless to say, if you read the list of criteria for admission to a KK party, I don't qualify. At all. I'm not sure how to feel about that. My friend in London Town might find the parties an acceptable and amusing way to pass a Saturday night, but I'd never get past the door Nazis and the velvet ropes. Even if I managed to finagle my way inside (bribes? pretending to be Armand Busson? ) my experience would be all about a series of riffs on the theme of rejection and humiliation. All I could do would be...avoid eye contact, stay as fully clothed as possible, and hit the free buffet. The best I could do would be to try to get my money's worth at the buffet and the champagne bar.
Oh, yes. There's a free buffet. Let's just say that I find that idea to be...a problem. A sex party buffet should be, hmmmm....champagne, cocaine, and perhaps something like truffled chocolates. (Veuve, of course. Maybe Bollinger. But not Moët.) The buffet shouldn't ever be an actual buffet--- the Vegas hotel kind. Just...no. As I've said before, naked people and a buffet line don't mix. Two words on that: steam tables.
Oh, yes, I've seen "Eyes Wide Shut" and read both "Story of O" and Anne Rice's "Exit to Eden". When people think about high-end sex parties, they think about "Eyes Wide Shut". They imagine the parties as being about beautiful people having sex in elegant settings charged with mystery. Or is that just me?
I've written about this before, but it bears repeating. Sex is about stories and social markers. Flesh as flesh is a failure, and physical sensation that doesn't derive from being part of a well-crafted story does nothing for me. I read the article about the Killing Kittens parties and poured myself a drink. I've no idea if there's anything that could live up to my vision of what a high-end sex party should be about (or what sex itself should be about), but I do know that I'd never be allowed past the door at Killing Kittens in either New York or London Town to find out. There's nothing in that article, nothing at the Killing Kittens website, that promises someone like me anything but derision and humiliation.