When we started dating, some of my friends referred to us as "The Campbell Soup Kids." I guess it's because we slightly resemble each other, and we're both cute. Not Swedish porn star cute; kewpie doll cute. Like Campbell Soup Kids.

So it's very odd that swingers have targeted us not once, but twice.

The first time, we were dating. We were at The Green Mill, a vintage jazz club. People go there for the jazz, the ambience, and apparantly to pick up partner-swappers.

The place is always crowded, so it's not unusual to share a booth or table with strangers. Thus, we were not wary at all when a boringly normal-looking couple asked to sit at our table. The problem was, they were low-talkers, the music was loud, and Uberdilf and I are too polite. We couldn't hear what these people were saying, yet we nodded and smiled anyway. Then, the music stopped and the guy finished his sentence with ... "so I like bondage too. What else would you like to do?" Or something like that. I don't remember his exact words, but the meaning was abundantly clear.

God bless my Uberdilf. He smoothly looked at his watch and said, "Oh, honey, we better get going if we're going to get up early tomorrow!" And we made a hasty retreat. And had a really good laugh on the cab ride home.

The second time we were married and living out in the 'burbs. We went to the old downtown movie theater that showed second-run and art films; we were going to see The Red Violin. I know, sexy. We were practically the only people in the theater, except for some little old ladies in the back. Another younger couple comes in, and the guy makes a beeline for us. He sits down next to us and starts leering, but his wife/girlfriend anxiously pulled him away, saying, "Please, no. Let's sit somewhere else. Please?" And he reluctantly left, with a longing backward glance at us.

Odd. Very odd. Thankfully, we know longer give off whatever scent attracted those people to us. But it makes for interesting stories nonetheless.