Swinger Free Hot Tubs

feet in a hot tub

I’m annoyed.

When I told my wife I wanted a hot tub, she flinched a little. Hot tubs do, after all, hold a certain reputation.

I’m not annoyed my wife immediately thought of swingers. I’d likely have done the same. I’m annoyed that swingers have somehow monopolized hot water.

I mean, how ridiculous is that?! How presumptuous, judgmental, and ignorant would someone have to be to visit our home, see a hot tub in the back yard, and think we’re swingers? I mean, sure, it’s not hard to do the math for some presumptions: we like to relax, or maybe we’re even sexually active, or perhaps I have a think for wetlook. These are reasonable assumptions and don’t require a pronouncement on our character. But swingers? Really?

I recognize the prominence of this stereotype. But surely people are smarter than that when such a presumption would be totally out of character with all people know about us. It would be quite a leap.

If we invite a couple over, a couple we attend church with, spend extensive time with, share children with for days at a time, and we ask if they’d like to join us in the hot tub, I would hope they’d know it wasn’t some sort of sexual proposition.

It would be like if we have my best friend and his wife over, and I offer her a cup of coffee. Did I just suggest we engage in an adulterous romp? Of course not! An offer of coffee in specific situations or from certain people might be a sexual advance, but they know better. They know me better, surely.

Yet hot tubs are inherently swinger territory. How annoying.

Doesn’t change me wanting one, though. Maybe I’ll make a sign over it that says “Swinger Free Zone”. Does that help, or does it make it even more awkward than just wondering?

Photo credit: ex_magician / Foter / CC BY
About Phil (251 Articles)
Philip Osgood is a Christian husband, father, and writer who considers himself a passable video game player, fiction reader, camping and hiking enthusiast, welder, computer guy, and fitness aficionado, though real experts in each field might just die of laughter to hear him claim it. He has been called snarky, cynical, intelligent, eccentric, creative, logical, and Steve for some reason. Phil and his beautiful wife Clara live in Texas with their children in a house with a dog but no white picket fence. He does own a titanium spork from ThinkGeek, though, so he must be alright.