I Did It For Science Key Party


    Long ago, in a magical time called the 1970s, people threw key parties. At these sordid, drunken soirees, male guests threw their keys into a pot, and the female guests picked a set at random, pairing up with the owner of the keys. Debauchery followed.
   Today, lock-and-key parties (a British speed-dating phenomenon in which men try to match their keys to women’s locks) are all the rage. But who wants to walk around with a lock all night waiting for some dude to open it when you could be tossing back Singapore Slings and getting busy with the neighbor?  
   Recently, my editors asked me to resurrect the legend (some say urban legend) of the key party. Is there a chance that in this lame-ass era I can recapture the good times of the “Me Decade”? Or, like a junior-high school dance, will my key party be an uncomfortable disaster?

Please list all the materials required for this experiment (including, if applicable, how they were obtained).

     –    Giant cheese ball (one)
     –    Ritz crackers
     –    Chex Mix
     –    Singapore Slings (four pitchers)
     –    Tom Collins (one pitcher)
     –    Blue Nun (two bottles)
     –    Matues (one bottle)
     –    Beer (several cases)
     –    Cuervo Tequila (one bottle)
     –    Gordon’s Gin (one bottle)
     –    Assorted other beverages


In this portion of your report, you must describe, step-by-step, what you did in your lab. It should be specific enough that someone who has not seen the lab can follow the directions and recreate the same lab.
   For research purposes, it was suggested I watch The Ice Storm, a film set in 1973 suburban Connecticut. It involves two well-to-do families whose lives unravel as one husband (Kevin Kline) carries on an affair with someone else’s wife (Sigourney Weaver). The shit hits the fan when both married couples attend a key party at a fabulous suburban home. When Kline tries to rig the key ceremony, he is snubbed by Sigourney, who picks another man’s keys. Meanwhile, an ice storm covers Connecticut and a horrible death ensues.
   Overall, not exactly an advertisement for key parties. Still, I was inspired by the ’70s fashions and décor.
   There were some obstacles. For starters, I don’t live in a fancy New Canaan home, but rather a six-floor walkup tenement on the Lower East Side where the bathtub is in a closet in my kitchen. There is barely space for my roommate, my Chihuahua and me; let alone a bunch of partygoers.

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